Forbidden Love
by moodyreindeer
Summary: Christine is the new girl with a famous dad. Chase happens to take an interest in her. But when their dads meet, an old rivalry is uncovered. Now it's up to the Lab Rats and their friends to keep their relationship hidden.
1. Prolouge

**New story. Request and planned by/with the awesome sterlingismyknight. So I hope you enjoy it.**

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><p>Fifteen year-old Christine Grant sighed as she brushed her hair. Another school. Another first day as the 'girl who has that brainy dad who's famous for stuff only Einstein could understand'.<p>

Okay, so maybe she was exaggerating a little but still. It close to what she's heard before. "What's wrong?" asked an electronic voice with little sympathy. Christine had grown to call this voice Rem. Or to her father R.E.M: Radio Enthused Maid. She was made when the teen was the young age of 5 and they were tightly bonded ever since. "_Another _first day," she said hopping up from her bed with an annoyed expression present on her sharp features.

"At least you've had tons of practice," Rem spoke cheerfully. Christine smiled but rolled her eyes- leave .it to Rem to look on the bright side. The sky a beautiful pink as she walked down the stairs, the brunette wondered would happen this time.

Every time she starts at a new school, something always happened- good or bad. Last year it had been yogurt spilling down the front of her top, and six months ago someone left a cute, yet cheesy, poem for her. Either way, she was always top of the school's gossip train her first week.

"Morning Dad," she greeted her father with a cheeky grin. Famous scientist Allan Grant- famous for successful rocket ships and future clone projects- smiled at his daughter from over the rim of his coffee cup. "Hello," he said, voice said weird from just swallowing warm liquid. "Excited for the first day of school?" Christine smiled sarcastically. "Aren't I always?"

She poured herself a glass of milk and ate a cream cheese bagel as her dad read the rest of his paper and sipped his teaming coffee. The room stayed silent. The buzz of Rem coming down the stairs with a broom quickly filled that silence comfortably.

"Better hurry," she said to Christine, who was finishing up the last of her milk slowly.

"Great," the brunette mumbled sourly. "Can't _wait _to see how this will turn out." Christine grabbed her bag, kissed her dad goodbye, waved to Rem, and walked out the door with her head hung low; she was prepared to walk the two blocks to school.

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><p><strong>So. I know it's short but next chapter will be longer. I hope. Loved it, hate it? Want me to continue? (Don't have a choice on that I'm afraid. )<strong>

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Here's chapter 2 once again co-planned by sterlingismyknight. The rest of the story will be in Chase's Pov, but if needed it will be changed.**

**Enjoy reading. :)**

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><p>Chase's Pov<p>

School.

Once you get over the thrill of actually getting to go, you start to notice a lot of obvious cons that show themselves to you. Inculding the getting up early, stressing about homework, and how tired you are when get home in the afternoon. And even though I'm the (obviously) the smartest out of Leo, Bree, and Adam, I was hating school as much as them. And it didn't help that we get the joy of showing up to school earlier than most of the student body and staff.

"I'm so bored!" Bree complained loudly as she paced back and forth in front of the benches Adam, Leo, and me were seated on. "And I can't call or text anymore because _someone _threw my phone off a high-speed train!" I rolled my eyes as she glared at me. It wasn't my fault we were on a very important mission and she didn't ignore the call.

The other two weren't paying any attention to the conversation as usual. Leo was too focused on some new comic book he managed to get from the other comic book nerds in this school. And Adam- no one ever understood aything he did really. When we showed up, he had said something about going to the library where he was supposed to meet the rest of the pep squad, since he had joined (for the girls' attention).

"Well I'm heading to my locker," I stated to no one-they weren't listening anyway. Because my locker was so far away from where we come in at and wait for school to start, I had mapped out the school and was able to find a shortcut to my locker. If I took two long hallways left of the usual direction we went in, I would get to my locker two minutes quicker than I would going the other way.

With nothing to do, I just hung my bag up in my locker and kept my IPod out. Had to entertain myself somehow for the half hour school even started. As I turned around to walk back, I felt my body slam into someone else's.

We both crashed to the floor, letting out loud groans as we fell. When I sat up, I noticed who I bumped into was a girl. A very pretty girl. She _really _was, and me, being me of course, didn't get to meet those type of girls very often. Bright brown eyes, long wavy hair. Amazing was the absolute perfect word for her.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized in a rush, cheeks tinted a dark pink. Her focus remained on her books scattered on the ground around us. "It was completely my fault," I insisted as I helped her pick them up. "The name's Chase by the way."

She finally met her eyes with mine. "Christine." After all her belongings were stuck back in her bag, we stood and shook hands. "I'm new," she added shyly. Her name fit her well. "Do you want to meet my friends?" I asked as we started walking down the hall; I shoved my IPod into my pocket, forgetting about. She looked forward, considering her options. "Sure," Christine said finally, shrugging casusally.

I smiled. "Great." As we rounded the corner, I saw that Bree had given up pacing and we just standing there with a bored look on her face and Leo had started a different comic book. Adam must've still been at his pep squad meeting.

"Guys this is Christine," I spoke up, guiding her until she was standing right in front of them. "Christine-Leo and Bree." I pointed to eachperson as I said there name. Bree perked up instantly. "Finally! a girl I can talk to," she squealed-quite loudly if I do say so myself. Loud enough to activate my hearing. I saw Christine wincing as well. Odd, but I shrugged it off. "Hel_lo _Chris_tine_," Leo said as he looked her over. I rolled my eyes. The first thing he ever considered was the looks.

Bree groaned and shoved him back down on his seat when he tried to walk over to her new 'friend'. "What's your favorite color? Favorite Food? Drink? Team Jacob or Edward? if not, team Peeta or Gale?" she asked at hyper-speed. I could barely understand her but Christine seemed to. "Purple, pizza, Sprite, Jacob and Peeta," she said, sounding slow. Bree squealed hugged her tightly. "You are _so _going to join us for lunch," she said firmly, leaving no room for argumeent.

Christine shrugged and nodded, smiling-she looked at me briefly. I glanced at her as she chattered away with Bree. Leo just sighed and turned back to object in his hands.

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><p>After forty-five minutes each of History, Math, and Music (Christine surprisingly in all my classes), Lunch finally came. And as creepy as it sounded I kept glancing at her a lot in each classes. I couldn't help it. She made me curious. But some of it led me to gain interesting facts about her. Like how she (like me) winces when the bell rings.<p>

So as I got out of the lunch line-which was longer than expected considering the school's food- with Adam on my heels, I saw Christine already seated by Bree side with a packed lunch in front of her. It was a slice of pizza, a mini Sprite and a tiny bowl of fruit. "Ya know," Leo said, watching her eat the slice of pizza, "there's a microwave over there that you can use to heat that up?"

Christine just nodded and shrugged-she must like doing that a lot. "I like cold pizza," she explained before taking another bite. "So what does you parents do?" I asked to change the subject. "My dad is famous for building rockets and getting big, serious scientist awards," she answered, sounding bored. "My mom is...classified."Awkward silence. Everyone averted their eyes to their food and continued to pick at it until the bell rang. We got up and exited the room, going seperate ways.

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><p><strong>So like I said, this was longer. to many of your enjoyments. I hoped you liked this chapter and the next on will be up soon. And don't forget to give me your thoughts, questions, and comments in a review.<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

**I'm back with a new chapter of this fabulous co-planned story. And to this one reviewer: Spike will be in the story, but in later chapters. He will actually start some stuff that I won't give away. And Chase isn't that smart because I don't know how to write him when he's all professor Egg-head. But there will be moments where he'll seem like a super genius. **

**Enjoy.**

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><p>It's been four days since I met Christine. We were now sitting in the courtyard at the mall on a cloudy Saturday. It wasn't date; Leo dragged us here to see the new comic book store, Comic U.S.A, which had its grand opening that day. Christine had gone in there with him briefly, coming out five minutes later with a small bag in her hand.<p>

"What?" she asked when she saw the look I shot her. "I'm a sucker for a good Nancy Drew comic." Christine pulled the book out of the bag and pulled a leather case. "What's that?" I asked curiously. She pried it open and picked up a dark purple pair of glasses. "My glasses," she stated as she put them on. "Lame, right?"

I thought she looked just the opposite. The lens made her eyes look incredibly big and even more gorgeous then when she wasn't wearing them. "You look great," I said honestly, watching as she gaped at me in surprise before pulling out the comics of the bag. I couldn't believe I said that either. But, then again, she didn't seem to mind.

"So what comics did you get?" Christine pulled out a miniature stack of thin comics with colorful covers with bold titles. "Issues four, five, and seven," She responded as she picked one from the top. I grabbed one and skimmed the pages briefly. They were thin-a hundred pages each, give or take a few. Some pictures could too detailed and others not as much. I've never been one of the comic geeks though, anyway.

How long could it possibly take to look at a comic store? Leo had been in there for almost half an hour already; the place didn't even look that large. About as big as the school cafeteria. So unless, the builders were fantastic at maximizing space, he was just looking at the same things over and over. "I'm bored," I complained to Christine as she put down her comic.

She wrinkled her nose in curiosity. "So what do we do?" she asked while taking off her glasses. There wasn't much to do, considering how it was only 10:13 in the morning, most of the restaurants weren't opened yet, and a few scattered people sat at the tables surrounding ours.

The shops weren't very many interesting shops: an Old Navy, a cosmetic shop, and a Build-A-Bear workshop. Plus a few other clothing stores with barely any open. "Are you going to drag me into a cosmetic shop and shower me in perfume until I gag like Bree?" I asked sarcastically; I really didn't want to go into any of the shops whatsoever. Christine grimaced. "God, no," She said in disgust. "I hate those kinds of stores. Posters with fake model caked in make-up, and annoying smell of blush and crap. Perfume is the worst- they may smell go individually but together, it'd be enough to make you vomit.

I stared at her in surprise. The girls I knew- and that number was depressingly low- always talked about make-up and gossip. One of the reasons they irritated me to no end.

"I've never met a girl that didn't like all that make-up stuff before," I said stupidly, watching as Christine tipped her back and laughed. It sound soft and light. "I get that a lot," she answered, tucking her hair behind her ear, showing off her face.

"Let's play 20 questions," Christine said suddenly. I raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to friends with a stranger. The more we know about each other, the more we might find an interest in each other," she added at my quizzical expression. I just nodded and nodded to her. "You go first." Her lips pursed in, a sign that meant she was in deep thought. "What's your favorite book series?" Christine asked finally.

I didn't read much. I was programmed to know everything already. "_The Hunger Games_," I answered finally. She gasped.

"No way- I'm almost done with the second one."

"I'm half-way through with the third one."

Christine's eye lit up, shining even more so with the light from the courtyard reflecting in them. I swear I could make out a hint of golden flicks in them. "Who's your favorite character?" She leaned forward in her seat slightly. "Rue. Defiantly Rue." Her answer came without any hesitation.

Her excitement was intoxicating. "You know," I said slowly keeping my sight on her beautiful eyes and they started to shine in curiosity. "There's a movie out about the first one, and since the both of us have already it, would you like to see it with me?"

Christine pulled back just slightly. Her face was unreadable. It made me nervous and my leg bounced with anxiousness. Her mouth opened, forming the words for her reply. But footfalls stopped her as they grew louder, closer to our table. I sighed and watched as Christine leaned back in her seat, an excited Leo hopping up and down in the seat next to her as he showed off the things he'd apparently found had a great value of importance.

The answer would have to wait until later.

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><p><strong>So I know this is kind of short, but the next chapter will be longer with a lot of surprises. :D<strong>

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello my lovely readers. Back with another new chapter. And sterlingismyknight and me have most of this story all worked out, the kinks gone and stuff like that, so this story should be updated with a fast speed. And we have the announcement of a sequel, so yeah, everything's good so far.**

**Happy reading.**

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><p>"Yes."<p>

I stopped short, staring at Christine curiously. It was later that day, early afternoon after Leo left to go home. Christine and I stayed back to wander around the mall more. We hadn't having any conversations, therefore no questions needing answers. "Yes what?" I asked puzzled. Christine looked at me and laughed-actually, _laughed! -_ before turning so she stood in front of me.

"Yes I'll go see The Hunger Games with you," she said, her voice light and amused. "Call me later with show times." I watched shockingly as she smiled at me and started strutting away with a confident stride.

No One's Pov

"Ow! Not so hard!"

"Well quit jerking."

"Stop doing it so hard, then."

"Quit whining, already. I've figured you'd be used to it by now."

Christine and Bree were having an interesting time straightening Christine's hair. The comb had yanked on some knots, causing some screams and bickering to let loose. "There, you look perfect," Bree squealed and jumping up and down excitedly, the other to roll her eyes. She moved from the chair she been seated in to stand in front of her mirror and observe her look.

Her outfit was cute, perfect for the 'date': a Coca-Cola shirt under a jean jacket with skinny jeans. Shoes were simple, laced up combat boots. But with the make-up and jewelry, Christine and Bree had run into some disagreements. They finally agreed on mascara and a thin coat of taffy tasting lip gloss. A pair of pearls donned her ears. Christine reached up and smoothed her straightened hair carefully- Bree would have a hissy fit if she screwed it up.

"Christine!" her dad called upstairs, "there's a boy here for you." Bree and Christine shared a glance before hurrying down stairs. Bree waved good-bye and pushed past Chase to go out the door. Christine thought he looked handsome in his plaid shirt and dark jeans with Vans.

Chase's Pov

Oh my god. She looked beautiful. Christine came down stairs and stopped at my side. Her dad turned and faced us. "Keep everything appropriate, got it?" he asked sternly. I nodded kind of scared of how firm he was. But she just rolled her eyes and sighed.

"We'll be fine, dad," Christine assured before pushing me out of the door quickly. As we started down the sidewalk, I tried to find a way to start a decent conversation. "You look great," I said finally, walking as she focused her eyes on me. "Thanks," she said shyly, "you don't look so bad yourself." I let out a chuckle. For the thirty minutes before I had come to her house, I had acted like a complete priss trying to decide on what to wear.

"I'm really excited," Christine added, "about tonight. I've been waiting to see this movie. Plus I think this will be really fun." A silence appeared when she slowly snatched my hand and held it tightly intertwined with hers.

I froze, for a second, and tried to hide a flush as it crawled up my neck. "I'm really excited, too," I said as we approached the Cinema. We quickly bought our tickets-a side argument that I shouldn't pay for her ticket, I did of course- and only got a large pack of skittles for a treat. The theatre was crowded, people chattering excitedly about the movie as they adjusted in their seat.

"Man," Christine exclaimed, "this place is flippin' fill." She surveyed the room with a careful eye. Suddenly, Christine pointed up at the top, third row down from the top. "There are some seats," she said as we quickly rushed to them before anyone else could steal them. We settled quickly, the skittle bag placed tightly between us so they wouldn't spill onto the floor.

"What's your favorite skittle?" I asked, picking an orange one from the bag and popping it into my mouth. Christine's hand dipped into the bag and pulled out a yellow one. She twirled it between her thumb and index finger.

"Definitely yellow," she said, making a big show as she popped it into her mouth-she felt obliged to balance it on her tongue and show the now shiny piece of candy to me. I rolled her eyes at her silliness.

People around us, including reluctant children, quieted and faced the front as the lights dimmed. Christine and I focused on the screen as well, although that was a little hard to accomplish when her hand slipped back into place with mine again.

Throughout the whole show, they stayed like that- free hands reaching when needed to pull put the desired candy from the bag. When the lights brightened, families and couples started to leave, some saying the movie was better, others claiming the books were much better.

"That was fun," Christine said as we walked through the exit and into the night. "So what do you think?" I asked, eyeing her carefully. Her face scrunched up, a sign of confusion. "Book or movie?" I asked. Her head tilted up, eyeing flickering as she pondered for an answer. "I like both," she decided finally, smiling at me as we continued down the street. "I liked picturing the scenes in my head while reading the plot, but the sets and dialogue were different, more modern than the book in a way."

I glanced at her. "You really take this stuff to heart," I stated. Christine ducked her head down, focusing on her shoes. "I like doing that," she said, "I like responding to every question thoughtfully; you asked for an answer and you get one."

What an excellent way to put it. "So I'm assuming you enjoyed tonight," I observed. She rolled her eyes and nudged my shoulder playfully. "No, I'm smiling like an idiot because it was the worst night of my life," Christine said sarcastically with an eye roll. "So how about we do this again next weekend?" I asked, turning to her as we stopped in front of her house. "My house- Saturday. Pizza and rent a movie?" Christine grinned and bounced on her toes, eyes sparkling.

"Sounds perfect," she said. Seconds passed before she leaned in and pressed her lips to my cheek carefully. "Can't wait," Christine told me softly, waving good-bye and entering her house.

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><p><strong>So I hoped you enjoyed it. I think this was longer than I expected, but as long as you enjoy it and review for the both of us.<strong>

**Laters. :D**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. We're back with another chapter. And to Gnome: I will think about your idea but I can't promise that I'll write it.**

**And some of you have been concerned with the idea of Christine having powers. She's not going on missions or anything, but later in this story you'll see that she may not have powers, her dad kind of did some tricks.**

**So yeah. That's what we (sterlingismyknight and I) have come to for this chapter.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

Sundays were always my day. I just loved coming down stairs to my dad sitting there with his Sunday paper and usual steamy coffee cup. It was one of the only days on the weekends that he was actually _home_. The house-bigger than needed, is what I think- always seemed vacant when the sounds of his clanking and clicking didn't come from his office/lab in the attic. The hums coming from Rem moving back and forth, to and fro were kinda quiet.

In simple words: it was a little eerie at times when he wasn't it around.

"Morning sweetie," Rem called from her spot at the stove. A delightful aroma came from the skillet: omelet. And my favorite kind too- I loved its taste with the cheese, mushrooms, and slight garlic on my taste buds.

"My favorite!" I rushed down the rest of the stairs, taking them two at a time. I swung my body onto my bar stool, waiting for my plate eagerly. Rem let out a laugh- human and soft like her voice; it's hard to remember that dad had given her a humane voice when you know how she looks for such a long time.

Rem placed a navy blue plate in front of me. My omelet, a piece of (slightly burnt) toast layered in thick blanket of peanut butter, sausage, and a tall, narrow glass of orange juice. "Thank you," I said kindly before picking up my fork and shoveling the food into my mouth.

"So what are you planning to do today?" she asked from the other side of the counter. "Meeting Bree and some of her friends at the mall," I responded, swallowing the food to speak. I washed it down with a few gulps of juice.

"You've seem to have made a big impression at your new school," Rem stated while giving me a look; I still was trying to figure out how she could look so robotic but still give knowing looks whenever needed. Shrugging, my plate seemed much more interesting. "Especially with that young man. The one who took you out yesterday?"

There was something that set me off about Rem at times-it was weird that her brain was part computer, which were much more observant, logical, and straight-forward than the normal human mind; that's why she always knew me to the core without even trying. My plate was now almost empty- I was running out of distractions. I glanced around the room, looking for a way to escape this conversation before it got more awkward than it should've been. Finally I set my gaze on the clock, with its hands ticking slowly: 10:27.

"I need to get ready. Meeting them at 11:00," I stated, hands moving quickly to stuff the dirty, empty dishes into the sink in a rapid motion before hurriedly hopping up the stairs.

Bree hadn't said what we would be doing. But considering that it's Bree, the mall, and who girly the girls had seemed when she described her friends, it would most likely be shopping and browsing, forced to try on different varieties of clothes that only satisfy them.

Yeah, I've been through this before.

She had also warned me that her friends were a little picky with appearances. They thought you couldn't be seen with just anybody. "I consider you a close friend," she'd said sincerely. "But the girls aren't ones for sarcastic humor and wittiness. Mostly because they can't do it themselves." So keeping her warnings and words in mind, I chose my outfit carefully. Flipped and re-flipped through clothes quickly, skimming fabrics and belts mildly.

Finally it was decided: a purple V-neck under a grey leather jacket and jean shorts with combat boots. Jewelry was tricky, but I just slapped on a simple star necklace hanging on a leather string with a beaded bracelet. My hair was pulled into a simple braid.

These were girls- loved gossip, drama, boys, and shopping. Obsessed with whatever 'dirt' they could get on someone and made sure the whole world knew about it in less than ten minutes; the world ended if they didn't have a hot date to a dance and their dress was horrid.

Ugh.

And plus the fact that girly girls considered you 'BFFS!' the minutes you meet, I packed my purse (black, leather, and had a long chain connected) with cinnamon gum, my plaid wallet, and phone. It took a decent amount of time of mental debating, but I decided on bringing my IPod and a pad of sticky notes and a pen in case I was ill with boredom.

I flashed my hand at Rem on my way out; informed her I had no clue when I would be back. The mall was about a mile from my house which was just on the brink of downtown where everything was. I pulled out my bike, hopped on and started pedaling. There was something about the wind whipping my hair back, hearing the normal noises of a happy neighborhood that relaxed me to a point my mind was blank; a piece of fresh paper, unlettered with doodles and mindless tacked-on thoughts. Time passed, the normal fifteen minutes flying by too quickly for a biker's-like me, obsessed with the quite time that was prized with it-liking.

Bree was waiting outside the mall entrance by a group of rose bushes out front. The mall was big: three stories tall, complete brick except for out front where the walls near the revolving door were complete glass, showing the people inside. With her, I counted four girls- Bree stood a little away from them, waiting for me to grace them with my presence.

She excitedly pointed me out after watching me lock my bike to the bike rack stride over to them confidently. "This is Christine," Bree introduced excitedly. Her finger pointed out each girl. "Ashley"- a short, skinny blond with a heart-shaped face and unnaturally big eyes-"Samantha, a.k.a Sammie"- raven hair, perky features, and sharp, narrow looks (nose and chin)-"Trina"-black corkscrews curls, tinier than needed, hard eyes, judging everything as if it wasn't good enough for her- "and finally Rachel"- looked like Trina, except her hazel eyes were more curious, expression soft, matching her tall, built form almost perfectly.

Each girl smiled (not really of course, just enough to convice an idoit) and moved their hand an inch in what was supposed to be a wave. Rachel, though, smiled a little more at me with a bigger wave by a couple inches.

Bree picked up on how awkward it was and led us inside. I stayed at the back of the group, not wanting to get to close in case I've screwed something up already; populars girls like those can always draw blank faces, hiding their judgment on you. "Hi," a voice said, no more than a whisper, beside me. Rachel. She looked apologetic-I must let something slip onto my expression.

"Hey," I said stiffly. I sounded unsure;guarded. "Your the girl Chase is dating, right?" My face started to flush, and I shot my eyes to the marble tiled floor. "I guess so," I muttered sheepishly, shoulders rising and falling.

"Bree talked on and on about how she thinks you two are the 'it' couple," Rachel continued, "of the school. Is your next date soon?" I looked up after my face cooled, the blush gone. Rachel seemed _way _better than the other girls had acted toward me.

"Saturday," I replied a little more loudly.

"Cool." She nodded-her head whipped side from side quickly, scanning different stores. "Why don't I help you then?" she said excited, her hand latching onto my wrist. "Where and when is this date?" Bree continued to lead the group past benches, various carts and piercing stations. "Night-his house." Rachel smiled and dragged me toward a JC Penny's with a smiley face. Five minutes later, my arms were wayed down with jeans, tank, and shirts of all colors as she shoved me into an empty dressing room.

I modeled the clothes for her, in the way she had picked them out and intructed me what went with what. It ranged from short short and plaid shirts to leggings and graphic tees with sweaters and belts. When everything had been tried on, we kept most and tossed out three shirts and one skirt.

The cashier looked a little startled when at least a dozen (or more) types of clothing as plopped onto the counter in front of them. She started ringing them, one by one; I was never a patient type of person.

"That'll be 123.96," she stated, her boston accent sounding bored. I gaped at the woman and turned to Rachel nervously. "I don't have that kind of money," I whispered to her harshly. But she just waved me away dismissively. "I got this," she said, her tone louder than the one I had used. She opened her purse-quite an expensive looking one if I might add- and pulled out a _freaking credit card_! I could barely hide my shock, even though it's normal for teenagers to have one. None of my friends ever did though.

Soon we out, both holding two bag in one hand, arms around the others shoulder with their free one. "You know you didn't have to do that right?" I said as we started to search for our group; that must've not missed us, considering how they weren't searching high and low (not that I thought they would, anyway). Rachel just rolled her eyes and led me in the direction of Barnes & Nobles. "I know," she responded. "But I _wanted _to."

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><p><strong>So there's a little more Christine for you, the next chapter will be school and something else that I think you'll be excited for.<strong>


	6. Chapter 5

**Back to Chase!**

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><p>Chase's Pov<p>

Monday came way too soon. I groaned, rolling out of bed (finally, Davenport moved us from those stupid tubes!) and stumbled to the bathroom before Adam and Bree could hog it all; both of them taking half an hour each in the bathroom is just plain ridiculous. I showered, did the usual. The house was quiet- it was too early for anyone (but, of course, me) to be up and around.

When an hour passed, everyone came down to me freshly dressed, full of a quick breakfast, and watching stupid cartoons with nothing else to do. "You're even an overachiever at home," Leo taunted sarcastically. "Do you ever take a break from being a geek?" I rolled my eyes and instead kept focusing on the TV. I preferred nerd; Leo himself was the comic book geek of the family. Soon the cries and hollers of Bree and Adam as they most likely wrestled (literally. Not as funny once you've actually see it happen).

Mr. Davenport never came up in the mornings- never showed himself, remaining locked up in his lab. The only way you even knew he was out of bed was the _insanely loud _bumps and screeching coming from it.

"I swear that man needs to learn to spend some quality time with his family," Tasha said, her head with a slight scowl. I looked up from the cartoons and gave her a look. "Yeah, that going to happen," I stated sarcastically as she gave me a look before starting to make breakfast. Tasha was a good cook- never burnt anything, but always trying to cook or bake 'different' things with ingredients that never seem to go together.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and an even louder shout (a pretty colorful cuss word, which Tasha apparently didn't approve of).

"Well, doesn't that sound interesting?" Leo said, looking up from his comic book. His tone was dripping with sarcasm. I sighed, shutting off the TV and tossing the remote onto the couch beside me. I slung my bag onto my shoulder. "I'm heading off to school early!" I called over my shoulder. Then I (my super senses, if you want to be technical) caught Leo muttering, "Such a geek." I stopped, turned and shot my best glare before leaving.

Walking to school was always fun; it was even better alone. The sky was a violet color, not yet morning, but not exactly night. It was cooler- a breeze moving through the silent neighborhood.

Well, usually silent, anyway.

"Chase!"

I whipped around at the sound of my name. Christine was trying to catch up to me, her sneakers hitting the sidewalk in a steady pace, slowing as she came to a stop. Even in the dim light, I could tell her face was flushed and glance at me. With her amazing eyes. And just briefly before she turned away, they seemed like a different color.

_Almost purple._

But it was impossible-a human couldn't have their eyes change colors. But then again I'm living proof that anyone can seem human when they're not. Like the saying says 'Don't judge a book by its cover' or even more so 'Everything is not what it seems.' And plus the fact that it was still pretty dark out, it was probably a trick of the light or something- nothing to dwell on.

"Did you just run a crack of dawn marathon or something?" I teased as we started walking, Christine's pants dying down. She shook her head, sending her hair flying. "I… live just a few… blocks away. Figured we could walk together if I could catch you," she said. "Where are Bree, Adam, and Leo?"

I jerked my hand in a dismissive motion toward the house. "I was not going to wait forever and a day while they got ready." She threw her head back and let out a laugh- eyes shut loosely, a smile showing off her white teeth, her face displaying happiness.

We lapsed into silence. Our quiet footfalls seemed unnaturally loud- the houses surrounding us were (mostly) dark; the porch lights switched off and the curtains pulled. Most of the families in the neighborhood had little kids- in elementary or middle school. Very few (excluding us and Christine) had high school students.

But the good about living in a rich area was that it was about a quarter mile away from the schools, which were placed together-separated by at least two blocks. So usually I welcomed the quiet scenery on my way to school whenever I was given the chance to- mornings where my patience was wearing thin and Leo, Adam, and Bree were slower than turtles and snails combined.

"I hate Monday mornings," Christine said suddenly. I stopped and shot a glance at her, startled at how she had randomly brought that up. I was about to question it when I noticed the tall brick building known as the high school.

"Why?" I asked as we approached the glass double doors. Have I mentioned how rich our city seemed to be? As we walked to our lockers (I had shown her the shortcuts earlier last week to get to her locker faster), Christine traveled closer to me, her head resting on my shoulder as we navigated through the nearly deserted halls smoothly. "Too many loud noises," she whined childishly. "Too loud. Can't handle it." I felt a wave of remembrance come over me. It reminded me of my first at a _real _school-my first freak- out with the bell.

I nudged her when she was standing in front of her locker. I pulled away-not that I wanted to- and spun the combination quickly. We had at least another half hour (give or take a few minutes) to do anything necessary before school start and the bell rang for homeroom. We dumped our bags, Christine making sure to grab a book and her glasses case, I securely sticking my iPod into my pocket carefully.

We took another shortcut to a different group of benches outside the library. Christine slipped on her glasses and began reading silently. I was going to start playing some games (the high pitched clicks had been going off for a couple minutes, signaling that I had partners who were finished with their turn) when a thought occurred to me. So taking this opportunity, I pressed my forehead against her shoulder; we were about the same height, me just barely dominating in size by a couple inches.

"Christine," I said softly, taking one of her hand in mine. She used her free one to put her bookmark back and place before she leaned her head against mine. Her breathe felt warm on my skin, my super sense picking up the warmth of her skin. "Chase," Christine responded, her voice equal with mine. I let my thumb trace patterns into her hand.

"We're going out right?" I asked, making myself as blunt as possible. I couldn't help it- I wanted her to know that. Her skin grew warmer, implying a flush on her face. "I guess," she said shyly, looking anywhere but me. I smirked; unusual for me, never really even having a reason to do so.

"Then," I said, "I guess that means I can do this." I lifted my head up before kissing her cheek, letting them linger a few seconds longer than intended. I enjoyed the skin on skin contact before pulling away. Christine's eyes glittered, the dim light from the hallway making them dance. She was wearing a smile of her own. "Then I can do this," she stated. Her arms wrapped around my neck, face nuzzling my neck slightly. On instinct, my hand went around her waist, holding her close, hoping I didn't have to let go.

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><p>The first part of the day seemed to pass by quickly, lunch ending faster than earlier last week. My brain (never resting, always calculating the possibilities with probabilities. Something I can't help) had a suspicion that Christine's hand holding mine the entire time Bree ranted about how Adam was a bathroom hog.<p>

So that brought us to free period. Our school combined Study Hall with free period so only certain places were limited to those who have it: You can sit in the halls by the lockers-as long as you're reading, working, or writing- or the library and study, check out books even. I was at my locker, not even focusing on the numbers as the dial spun whichever way. Electronics weren't allowed during school hours-before and after school and lunch being the only exceptions-so that ruled out my iPod. I grabbed a random textbook (Physics) and walked over to the benches.

Where Christine was already reading, adorable glasses perched on her nose with her head ducked down. An idea was already forming into my head. I tucked my textbook under my arm and quietly snuck up behind her. I made sure to be quiet with setting my down, not letting her hear it.

Then I wrapped my arms tightly around her, my head next to her ear. "Hey," I whispered. Christine let out a gasp and jumped at least a foot in the air; she would have fallen if not for my arms wrapped around her. Once she figured out it was just me, she relaxed and leaned into my. "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me," she said, sounding breathless. I smirked.

"Well, I thought about something that will make you _really _scared," I said. It was true- on the way to my locker a sudden thought had popped up into my head. Christine tilted her head to get a better look at me. I let out a breath.

"Meeting my parents."

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><p><strong>So you love it? Hate it? Suggestions? We would love to hear your thoughts and idea that you might want added.<strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**So hey. We had been talking about this chapter and I think it will be one of the best for this story. **

**And I know how some of you like jumping to the story-I do that sometimes too. But please read this: Christine is not a superhero like Adam, Bree, and Chase. There is a surprise, but it's not what you think. She can't blow up cars or lift things with her mind, and doesn't have insane strength. So quit worrying about it and please enjoy the chapters you **_**do **_**read for now.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>No Pov<p>

Christine was nervous. But she tried to reason with herself that the jittery feelings dancing around in her stomach-which was turning a messy knot-was normal. Other girlfriends got them when they the parents, right? Right.

So that's why when Chase led her up the porch steps to his house, she kept thinking this over and over until it eventually relaxed her (slightly) and slowed her mind-thinking of too many bad scenarios that most likely wouldn't happen was not going to help her situation.

Chase seemed to pick up on her nerves and gave her fingers a soft squeeze and reassuring smile. "You'll be fine," he tried to assure her, only getting a halfhearted smile. Christine inhaled and exhaled, repeating the action a couple times before deciding she was calm enough to stop.

"Let's go," she stated confidently to her boyfriend.

Chase's Pov

I could tell just by looking at her that Christine was nervous. But honestly, when I am in her position-I will be to meet her father-I was probably going to act the same way.

Giving her one more look, I unlocked the door and led her inside, slinging my arm around her waist as I led her into the living room. Her reaction so far about the house-the big gate, security system, the huge size of the house and yard- had seemed expected: shocked. But she lived in the neighborhood too, so the size must not have surprised her that much.

But the inside was most likely the big part. Tasha was in the kitchen, standing at the stove while stirring a pot full of something, Bree was playing hacky sack, supposedly trying to beat her high score of forty-seven, Adam was God knows where, and Leo was sitting on the couch with intense attention focused on the TV ahead of him.

"About time you got h-"Tasha began looking up-she caught the sight of Christine and I _very _close together and broke into a wide smile, forgetting her unfinished sentence. "Well who's this?" She asked, turning the stove off and walking over. Bree and Leo looked up from their distractions and noticed that I had brought Christine with me.

"Christine," she introduced herself, gripping my hand in hers while waving with her other one. "I just moved in down the street a couple blocks away." Bree had now walked over with her sack in hand. "Hey girl," she greeted Christine was a side hug. Leo just waved while still staring at the TV.

Suddenly Christine wrinkled her nose. "I hate to be rude," she said, "but why does it smell like burnt metal?" It took us a minute, but we caught on to what she meant. Mr. Davenport must be in his lab; it took us a while to acknowledge the scent since we had grown used to it, along with the thumping and bumping tagged along with it.

"That's just my husband," Tasha exclaimed. "He's most likely inventing something that will go berserk five minutes after he's finished." Christine sniffed again before looking like she was trying not to laugh. "Sounds like my dad," she said, letting loose a tiny laugh at the end. "He loves inventing and scientific discoveries himself, if you can relate. One of my best friend's at home is actually a very useful and friendly robot maid: Rem to me, R.E.M to my dad."

Bree wrinkled her nose in confusion. "R.E.M?" she asked, as puzzled as the rest of us seemed to be. "R.E.M: Radio Enthused Maid," Christine explained as if stating her favorite color. I was caught off guard by how quickly she could explain it-almost as if explaining a family member or something about her to us.

"Cool!" Leo exclaimed before turning to his mom. "Can Donald make a robot for us too?" he asked eagerly only to have Tasha discard the comment quickly. "They aren't a bother," Christine said, "no oil changes or leaks as long as the right bugs in the building process were taken care of. Robots are actually quite humane and normal, and don't move the way humans mock them too; I've lived with Rem for nine years since she was created, knowing these things is like knowing my own name." I probably seemed impressed-I didn't know anyone who even _understood _robots didn't require oil before I met her-but the others had blank faces, not seeming to process The information Christine had shared with them.

The loud noises ceased, then the soft electric hum of the elevator, before some thumping down the stairs. Mr. Davenport came down the stairs with his tie hanging unknotted from his neck, hair disheveled and greasy with an unfinished gadget in his hands. "Tasha have you seen m-"He stopped when noticing Christine for the first time. "Who's this?" he asked with mild interest. "Christine," I informed him. "Chrissie, this is Mr. Davenport." Christine blushed at the nickname, so I took this as a sign that she approved of it.

"Nice to meet you," Mr. Davenport said kindly, wiping his hand down his pants to shake her hand. Christine seemed unfazed by his stained hand, completely comfortable with the electronic burnt smell rising up from the lab. "Did you just move here?" he asked. She nodded. "My dad moved us because of the more common testing facilities in the area," Christine explained. "Back in Minnesota, the old one shut down." Mr. Davenport-a man who spoke like a walking laptop-looked shocked at her words. "Your father is a scientist?" he asked happily, sounding eager.

"Join us for dinner," he suddenly insisted while pushing to the table. Christine shot me a confused yet happy look that I just responded with a shrug to.

Looks like she made quite the impression.

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><p><strong>So not as long as I wanted but it doesn't matter as long as it makes you guys happy.<strong>


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey guys. I don't know what to think of this chapter. But you know, it what it is. And I'm so sorry it seems like it's been a while since we thought of how the chapter would be written. I was having some problems with getting onto my account, but it's all good now so we're back!**

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><p>Christine meeting Mr. Davenport and Tasha went pretty well. I honestly didn't know how to react to the situation since I never really had 'parents', but they were close enough, I guess. But she had seemed please when meeting them, Talking about how excited she was to see that they liked her.<p>

"You should meet my dad tomorrow," she had said, turning to me and grabbing both my hands as we stopped in front of her house. She glanced back at her house. "Tomorrow," she'd added before waving, kissing me swiftly on the cheek and hurrying into the house.

It was now Tuesday and I was sitting in French class with my desk nearly bare. Today had been test day. Me, being me, had already finished within the first ten minutes and handed it in on the teacher's desk. The other twenty student's in the classroom were still working-all except Christine.

She was sitting at her desk quietly, reading glasses on with her attention focused on _Mockingjay_. I thought about our conversation at the mall about the series and smiled;the same book in her hand was identical to the one on my desk. I probably should have been finshed by now, considering I only had a hundred pages left, but I hadn't read it that much-now and then I would pick it up and read a couple of paragraphs or so.

The clock was ticking, sounding loud when accompained with the melody of pencil scratching against paper, then eraser furiously scrubbing away the previous answer. What ironic about the whole thing was that Christine and I were the supposive new kids and we were finished before the more older students.

Maybe I should've been reading like we're supposed to-or were recommended to, even though the teacher was too into his crossword puzzle to notice anything else-and probably would of if an object didn't land on my desk. It was folded neatly into a triangle. Curious, I took a quick glance around the room. Everything seemed the way it was when I last took a look.

Except Christine.

Was it odd I could point out something different about her in just the literal amount of time of two seconds? Maybe, but I noticed how her features looked slightly flushed and her posture more...giddy, possibly? I shrugged to myself and carfeully unfold the not and smooth it out in front of me.

_Done so quickly, are we? And staring around the room like a international spy? Sound peculair. ;D_

I smirked. So that's what she wanted. I let my pencil scribble back response before swifting tossing it to her desk-it went unnoted by the teacher, who currently had his feet up on his desk and seemed to be losing the crossword.

**You spying on me as well? Hmm...I like the thought of having you as my personal stalker. Hope you continue. I'll try not to let you get caught. :D**

Her cheeks instantly turned red and her whipped in my direction with a playful glare. I return with one of my own. A girl who I believe was named Rachel shot Christine a knowing look with her tongue poking out slightly before returning to her test. I raised my eyebrows at her but eventually shrugging it off; I remember Bree saying something about meeting Rachel on our first day.

Christine and I continued to throw notes back and forth.

_Sayss you. The next time I see you glancing at me with those eyes of yours, beware of getting called out._

**What are you implying? That my eyes are so irrestible, perhaps? :D**

_Maybe. If that's what you want to believe. ;)_

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><p>Today had been a "test day". Basically, it explains itself. All of the subjects had either a test, pop quiz, or whatever else they could think of. The wind was blowing and the sky was clear and blue as Christine and I continued the walk to her house.<p>

"So, what's you dad like?" I asked, not being able to help myself. Christine stopped for a minute before continuing to walk with me. She looked thoughtful, as if not knowing how to put the answer. Finally, she just sighed.

"He's kind of..." she trailed off while staring into space. "Different, I guess you could say. He's not really the social with many people."

That kind of made sense, in a weird kind of way that only she could understand. From how little Christine ever mentioned her mom, I had a slight suspicion there was much to _tell, _anyway. And in an even weirder way, I could relate. I had spent fifteen years of my life without a motherly figure around-barely father one as well. I've only known Tasha for a few months (three or four months tops) to have enough time to know what a real family was; Bree, Adam and I grew up with machines and experiments our whole lives.

So like I said: I could relate in a really _weird _way.

I'd spent all this time thinking, that I didn't even realize we had made it to her house. I let out a nervous sigh. This should be fun.

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><p><strong>I am so sorry that it took so long for this chapter. I haven't been feeling well lately. But I love how supportive sterlingismyknight is being about all this-checking up on how I'm feeling and everything.<strong>

**But I can assure you that the next chapter will be longer and in someone's elses Pov.**

**Please review for us! :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**So we're back. I'm feeling loads better and in a better mood to write. So this chapter is most likely going to be longer than the last.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

Was it bad that I was a nervous wreck? Especially about my dad and Chase meeting? I knew I shouldn't be all that stuff about magazines saying 'It doesn't matter whether or not your parents like him s long as you do' or whatever they say.

It was hard to tell what Chase was thinking at the moment-his face had an empty smile. Good or bad sign, I had no clue. The walk up the porch steps seemed to take over a century, anxiety pumping fresh in my veins. And of course today had to be the lucky day I forgot my house key. Chase squeezed my arm in a comforting manner. Were my feelings really that noticeable?

"It's going to be fine," Chase whispered. "He can't hate me after not even knowing me yet." I looked at him and rose on the tips of my combat boots and pressed my lips against the warm skin of his cheek. He flushed as I pulled away. I hesitantly wrapped my knuckles against the door.

"Did you for-?" Rem's question hung in the air as she opened the door and stared at the two of so close together. I felt my face heat up. To put it mildly, the situation was awkward. Rem had listened to me ramble on and about how cute Chase was and how excited I had been when we had become a couple. "Who's this?" she asked innocently-as if she knows nothing about him when I had told her _everything_-and stepped aside to let us in. Chase tugged me into the house.

With the tiny couch, love seat, coffee table, and TV stand, I was suddenly aware of how tiny the inside of our house looked compared to theirs. But it wasn't like it was majorly small either. Standing proudly at three stories tall with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and five hall closets, I would say people find it quite roomy for two people and a robot maid who wore the capacity of five different outfits.

"Chase-Rem," I introduced. "Chase's here to meet dad." I suddenly realized I didn't hear any of the usual loud sounds coming from his office or the attic.

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day. Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light. And listen to the music of the night._

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams. Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before._

_Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar. And you'll lives, as you've never lived before._

"That's him right now," I explained to Chase as he gave my ringtone a funny look. I quickly yanked my phone out of my pocket. "Hello?"

"_Hey honey. I'm might be a little late coming home from a science meeting. Five minutes tops. Do you want me to pick up something?"_

I give the phone a death look, even though it was impossible for my dad to see it. Why did today-or the first month we're even in this new town really-have to be when he has some stupid meeting?

Screw my life.

"I actually wanted you to meet someone," I told him, trying to hide all the frustration I could. "Do you think you can make it by 3:30?" I quickly shot a sneaky glance at my watch. It was 3:20 right now.

I heard him give a deep sigh. _"I'll try my hardest. Does your friend want anything specific for dinner? I can try to pick up a pizza or some Chinese on the way."_

I pressed my lips into a thin line. "Hold on." I clamped my hand over the speaker of my Blackberry and turned to Chase, was watching me with curious eyes. "Is Chinese takeout good for dinner?" I asked.

Chase bit his lip. "Sure," he answered finally with a bright smile that twisted my insides. I returned the smile and pressed the phone back to my ear.

"We'll take Chinese," I responded, assuming my dad was still on the line. "Talk to you when you get here." I quickly hung up and stuffed my phone back into my pocket. "So, you want to see my room?" I asked, trying to think of something to do to kill the time. At Chase's nod, I grabbed his hand and hurriedly dragged him up the stairs.

I tried to ignore Rem's shout of, "Keep it PG13!"

Chase's Pov

Her room was pretty cool. Kind of messy-I wouldn't really know what messy is considering my room is always kept clean and organized.

Christine pulled to her bed and I seated myself close to the edge. She smirked (a sign that means she had a plan) and sat down in my lap, claiming my hand in hers. Her soft hair brushed against my face as she buried her face into my neck. "What do you want to do?" she asked, the question coming out muffled.

I didn't respond and pulled her face up to mine. My lips pressed against her jaw, then neck. She closed her eyes and fell backward, causing me to fall on top of her. I leaned close against her lips, my hovering above hers not even by a centimeter. This would be my first kiss. I pushed away all signs of nervousness and crashed our lips together.

Everything felt like it was supposed to. All the cliché fireworks and sparks flew as we held onto each other. Distantly I heard a car door slam. Maybe the neighbors' or across the street.

Christine didn't seem to notice the sound. She tangled her slim fingers into my hair, yanking me closer. I groaned in response and pulled back, panting and staring down at her. Her hand tugged and pushed my hand down again, our tongues colliding in a dominate dance battle against each other.

Maybe if we had remained pulled back for a few minutes longer, we would've heard the front door open, the simply shout of "I'm home!", and maybe wouldn't have been so surprised when her bedroom door banged open.

"You!"

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><p><strong>So, kind of an easy cliffie. We would love to hear you guesses and comments in a lovely review. <strong>


	10. Chapter 9

**Hey lovely readers. So judging on your reactions to the last chapter, we didn't disappoint. I promise this next chapter will be longer, but I can't tell you by how much.**

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><p>No One's Pov<p>

Everything was still. Christine knew everything was over. The chances of Chase making a good impression on Rem had been likely, but her father was whole different story. Those chances had been slim, but now-especially when he had caught them under no adult supervision, on a _bed, kissing_- that sliver of a positive impression had slipped out the window.

"It's not what it looks like," she cried, the two teens jumping away from each other. Chase almost toppled over the edge of the bed in his rush to scoot away.

"So not what it looks like!" echoed Chase nervously, pulling at his clothes. He pondered whether or not he should just get up and slip out the door, but was too paralyzed with humiliation to move anyway.

"How many times have I told you to clean up this horrendous mess?" Mr. Grant lectured, his narrowed eyes taking in the unmade bed and random discarded clothing items strewn across the room. "I thought we discussed you were going to fix your cleaning habits at this house!"

Christine wanted to laugh. Her dad had been focused on her messy room, not her and Chase. She let out a relieved sigh. "Sorry dad," she apologized, but was too happy to mean it. "I'll clean it later tonight.

She always knew her father oblivious maner would come in handy to her someday.

"It better be," the man sighed, surveying the room once more. It had been a month since they moved and Already his daughter had wrecked her room from whatever teenage girls did with their clothes. He had bad feeling for whoever Christine's husband was going to be.

And speaking of boys...

"Who's he?" Mr. Grant asked, whipping his head to Chase, who had been sitting so deep in thought he nearly jumped a foot in the air from the man's startling words.

Chase's Pov

"Is he a friend of yours?" Mr. Grant continued, spewing out questions faster than we could answer them. (Scientists usually don't wait for an answer half the time though. They think of one themselves the dig deeper to see if it's true.) It's not that we had any answers. The truth seemed lethal and lying would cause more problems and leave the wrong impression-and that would help nothing.

"I'm stilling waiting," Mr. Grant pointed out impatiently. His foot started to tap and he crossed his arms over his chest. With his serious (and puzzled) expression, broad shoulders and stick-straight posture, he was quite intimidating. But in certain ways, Mr. Grant reminded me of Mr. Davenport.

"Uh," Christine began, lookig at everything-from her mirror, to me, to her clothes, to the walls and posters-except her father. I may not be a _normal _teenager, but I can pick up quickly enough that this is the best tactic for avoiding your real thoughts to be reaveled to your parents. If your true emotions were reaveled to your parents however, we wouldn't be in such a rough spot right now anyway.

"Dad-my boyfriend, Chase," she introduced quickly. It was obvious she mushed her words together so they couldn't be understood. It didn't work out well.

Instantly, his focus is snapped back to me and my nerves jumble together, never to become undone easily again. The feeling of my legs was gone and I felt my skin start to prickle with sweat. Had the room always been this warm? "Is this true?" Mr. Grant asked strenly, my scattered feelings unnoticed by him. That should be a good thing-he might find my fear of him offensive and that would help nothing.

I resorted to bobbing my head up and down, stopping when my head feel heavy and dizzy. This is not my best experience. "It is," my throat managed to bubble out, working on it's own. "We're together."

For a moment, everything goes silent. The air is still. Everyone had their emotions out on broadcast: Christine looked anxious, fidgeting with her bracelets and crossing and uncrossing her legs every time she moved; I was positive my fear was noted; Mr. Grant seemed to be flickering between two different feelings I couldn't detect.

I hated that I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Christine must've felt the same way too, feeling it was taking so long for him to say anything. "Well?" she asked impatiently-something that they most obviously shared.

Mr. Grant turned on his heel, lab coat swishing. "Come downstairs so we can dicuss it." The way he said it so simply, we both knew there was no room for arguement.

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><p>Rem was busy running around the room, cleaning and dusting everything to perfection. I know that Christine said she was a maid and a friend-she was holding something back. Whether she knew it or not, I knew Rem was taking place of an important figure that was missing in her life.<p>

Mr. Grant seemed to be the same way too, dependant on Rem with things he would depend a wife on. I still remember what Christine said about her mom.

_"Classified."_

Everything was oddly silent as we ate. Christine kept glancing back and forth between her father and I; Mr. Grant was focusing on everything but us; I was just eating, trying not to make anything more awkward than it already was.

"So," Mr. Grant drawled, trying to lighten the mood. "How long have you guys been dating?"

Christine nearly choked. I was sure my eyes were out of there sockets. (Though physically impossible.) But he just continued to wait for one of us to explain. I actually hadn't been keeping track of the days, no matter how much of a bad boyfriend that made me sound like. And evn though I'm a bionic super computer (thank Bree, Adam, and Leo for that _l__ovely_ nickname.)-as cheesy as it sounds-Christine made me forget everyday it had been and just the moments.

Apparently she had been-more or less-experiencing the same problem because she scooted her chair closer to mine and hissed, "I haven't been keeping track!" Now most boyfriends would feel offended when their girlfriend syas that, but now all I felt was relief that I wasn't the only one of our relationship.

But Rem, thank God, was watering a hanging plant by the porch door that was by the dining room and had been over hearing our conversation. "Christine, dear, didn't you say something about your first date being two weeks ago?" she asked casually, moving on to another hanging plant with a soft _whirr_ing sound.

"Uh, yeah!" Christine agreed cheerfully while scooting her chair away from mine again. "And Chase asked me to be his girlfriend a couple days after because he wanted to make sure I was ready to be with him." She smiled at me sweetly, which I gladly returned.

Mr. Grant seemed to like that, as he looked at me with approval. "And you swear you won't rush her into anything?" he asked sternly. Not that I can blame him for being worried. From what Christine has hinted in multiple games of 20 Questions, secret note exchangings and late night texts conversing, her last boyfriend had broken her heart and she still hasn't fully repaired. And I vowed to myself I wouldn't be one to break it again.

"I swear on my life, Mr. Grant." I looked him dead in the eye kept my voice serious and firm. "I will everything to keep her from getting hurt." So I may be book smart and didn't have as much strength as Adam had and probably never will, but I do know how to keep someone happy and apparently, I kow how to keep a girl more more than a week-despite what Adam and Leo would say.

The world seemed to pause as I waited for something: approval, good luck, a yelling, lecture, something as a response. Then he smiled. "Welcome to the family, son," Mr. Grant said happily. Christine flew out of her chair, it slamming to the ground and jumped on my lap, the chair tipping over and spilling us to the floor.

"This is amazing!" cried Christine as she hugged me tightly. "He approved!" I laughed and hugged her tightly. Right then, I had been feeling on top of the world; like everything was mine. And I should've been. Our parents agreed to let us date; everyone was happy for us; nothing could go wrong.

Until, of course, everything.

_HONK!_

"That's my ride," I exclaimed with my laughter present as I stood from the ground ad lending my girlfriend a hand.

"Your parents are picking you up?" Mr. Grant asked. "Cause I'd be more than happy to meet them."

"Sure," I said, watching him open the door as Mr. Davenport's lights faded and the car turned off. He and Tasha stepped out and came up the steps to meet half way.

Then everything went south.

"What's he doing here?" Mr. Grant asked sourly, his happy go-lucky aura fading and turning terribly bitter. Mr. Davenport seemed to do the same. His eyes darkened and jaw clenched in anger. I could already sense the bad blood between them and felt an awful feeling pull at my gut. Something big was about to happen and I nor Christine was going to like it.

"I'm here to pick up my son," Mr. Davenport said stiffly. Though from calling me his son or because of Mr. Grant I had no clue. "Please don't tell me Christine is _your _daughter?" The distain was so obvious my suspicions were confirmed.

"What's going on?" Christine asked, gripping my arm tightly, as if afraid to let go. I squeezed back to try and comfort her, but I was just as scared as she was. "Do you guys know each other?"

"You are not allowed to have any contact with Chase or any Davenports again whatsoever!" declared Mr. Grant. My eyes widened and Christine gaped at her father as if he split into two different people in front of her eyes. And at that moment, he might as well have.

"_What?" _she shrieked, grabbing onto me even more tightly. I was sure I felt her fingernails dig into my skin. "No way! I thought you said you like him!" Everything else happened in a blur. Mr. Davenport started shouting things about me never having contact with the Grants and that he will be arranging different school classes. Next thing I knew, Christine and I were being pulled apart.

"No!"

"Let me go!"

We kicked, screamed, cried over and over again. I thought I saw Rem peering out the window at us watching us fight to each other. "Chase!" Christine screamed, tears leaving salty tracks on her cheeks as her father lifted her off the ground despite her efforts at punching his shoulder. I knew from several piggyback rides to class, she didn't weigh anything over 95 pounds.

"Chrissy!" my escape efforts seemed to be working better, considering I was almost taller than Mr. Davenport and had a few pounds against him benefiting from natural good sized biceps and training. But he kept grabbing at my shoulder and attempting to lock my arm behind my back and shove me itno the car. His efforts weren't failing either.

Christine was pulled into the house by a apologetic looking Rem but her sobbing was still loud and was carried to where I was being shoved and seatbelt-ed into the car against my will. But I was panting and tired, thought I kept pulling at the car locks and pounding on the car window, screaming and shouting as he pulled out of the driveway and down the street.

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><p><strong>I think this is the longest chapter yet! So were you surprised, or did you expect all this was going to happen? Leave your ideas and comments in a review and if you have any question or something we'll get back to you. :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 10

**Hey. We might've already mentioned this, but there will be a sequel coming out by the end of July, maybe. If not, the end of July then around the middle of August.**

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><p>Chase's Pov<p>

The next hours had passed in a dull blur. I can't remember much, except for the obvious. The car ride had been deadly silent, even though as soon as the tires screeched to a pitchy stop, I was already half way to the door.

Mr. Davenport didn't understand. He kept trying to say how us seeing each other would "ruin business and decrease progress" or that "there was other of pretty girls mobbing the school hallways". Tasha had stayed silent through everything-it was hard to tell who exactly she agreed with. But by the way her arms were crossed over her chest and she was shooting sympathy/apologetic glances at me, she didn't see the big deal of this anyway.

The clearest thing out of it all was how I made a point of yelling at Mr. Davenport at the top of my lungs. I kind of hoped-just a little-that he would suddenly understand what it was like for you to have your practically father to love your girlfriend then hate the next minute. The fighting was followed into the house but left at the staircase, my furious footfalls doing all the talking.

That night, I stayed up in my room. I heard the clanks of forks hitting plates at dinner; the sound of Adam and Leo's video game explosions; Bree music loudly coming through the wall. Too many sounds for bionic hearing advanced as mine.

Bree attempted to visit me once-check to see how I was doing. But all I did was listening to her knock and plead for me to let her in; not that I did it. Instead I heard her sigh and walk back to her room next door. Minutes passed before I dragged my lacking muscles body to my window. I undid the latch and climbed an oak tree by my window up to the roof.

No one knew, but the roof was one of my most favorite places beside in the tree, especially at night-the stars and moon shining and everything still and peaceful. I went up there go often, I brought up a king sized quilt and a couple of books, stuff like that. As I was laying out the blanket and setting up everything after pulling out of it tiny hiding spot behind the chimney, I couldn't help but have my thoughts go back to only hours ago.

Christine and I were liked by the other parent's-that problem was solved and done for. So why do they have to bring their feud into _our _relationship. Christine was the sweetest, most amazing girl I ever met. (Not that any other girls approach me or anything.)

I sighed and lay back against my quilt and stared up at the dark sky. I'd always loved nighttime. Something about the stillness of everything with a peaceful atmosphere just seemed to piece everything together. Bree and Adam-the whiniest people I'd ever met- always complained that they could hear crickets chirping when they try to go to sleep; to dense to think of closing their windows or listening to music. I, however, liked the sound crickets made, never being able to hear them during the day with honking cars and other busy, amplified noises.

I had been so lost in thought that I didn't hear the grunting of a struggling person or the rustling sound of bothered leaves. But when I did, I jumped to my feet and silently edged closer to the tree. "Who's there?" I called out sharply; I didn't have any weapons, so my strategies and so-called persuasive tone would have to do.

A gasp of surprise rung out, strained. "A little help would be nice," panted the person, the top of their head showing as they climbed branch after branch with a seemingly clumsy footing. My eyes widened as I recognized the voice: Christine.

I rushed over and quickly grabbed onto her wrist and pulled. I didn't have much strength, but she was only an inch shorter than me and couldn't have weighed more than 90 pounds.

"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply after (with some struggle) pulling her onto the roof and over to my little set-up. "Do you know what will happen if we're caught? We'll be skinned and hung like hunted prizes!"

That may have seemed a little-or a lot-dramatic and farfetched by when talking about two scientist with very many high success levels in the mechanical and lab work area, nothing was too impossible to be considered.

"I don't care," Christine exclaimed as she propped herself up. I sat down beside her and gave her a look. She just shrugged. "It's not our fault their acting like idiots. We didn't do anything wrong, yet we're the ones being punished." She sighed and ran a hand through her dark tresses and looked at me with a lazy, somewhat amused smirk. "Do you know how cliché this is? Everything we're going through? It sounds almost exactly like something out of a fairytale book."

Everything she said was true and I knew that. "Maybe we could change the fairytale, then," I said. I grabbed her hand and laid us both down. "Just because Romeo and Juliet died, doesn't mean we have to." Just like I planned, Christine let out a laugh. I started to laugh along with her, just enjoying the time we had.

Something about her, made me stop and think. She was truly amazing. Beautiful, smart, fun, loving, kind-everything I want in a girl. "You're amazing," I said aloud, making her Christine turn her to me and star up at me with her sparkling brown eyes. "It's true, you know." I kissed her temple. She blushed.

"And you're…" Christine trailed off, kissing me cheek. "…Pretty amazing, too." Her words felt good against my skin.

We laid in silence. I heard a distant car honk and police siren. "We're gonna find a way to make this work, ya know." Christine's words startled me. "Plenty of people would help us. Four of them live under the same roof as you."

This much was true-Tasha, Leo, Adam, and Bree would lend a hand. So it seemed that we had the help problem under control, now my only problem is finding out how to tell Christine that I fell in love with her.

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><p><strong>So how was that? And please, if you read this story, leave a review. :)<strong>


	12. Chapter 11

**So, do you think he realized his love too fast? Remember, Chase and Christine got together three weeks ago and have been through so much. I tried to space it out as much as I could, but I didn't want to keep you guys hanging too long.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"They_ WHAT?" _Rachel shouted as she slammed a magazine onto the floor. I just sighed. It was early Wednesday afternoon, school being let out early because of a chemical emergency mishap in the chemistry lab. Rachel and I had walked to her house and were just lying in her room, flipping through old issues of _Vogue_ and _Seventeen. _(That may or may not have been taken from her sisters room.) "That's the most outrageous thing I've ever heard!"

"They even switched our classes," I exclaimed as I discarded a silk scarf I'd been playing around with. Rachel had insisted that we practice what was in season and what went together for future dates-at least, we had been until I told her the horrid news and she had a complete, grand auto freak-out. "They really hate each other's guts."

"God," Rachel groaned, her perfect corkscrews bouncing as she fell into one of her huge beanbag chairs. "Adults. It's like they want to ruin our lives." Usually this is where I defend my dad because he had been doing a great job with the whole "single parent" thing, but now, it seemed he deserved this judgment.

I ran a hand through my hair, certainly messing up the floral headband Rachel had forced onto my head. Everything was crashing down and I felt like punching a wall. "What are we going to do?" I complained. Whining wasn't something I did on a regular basis, but this was _so not _regular circumstances. "It's not like we can fight them. They're scientist; any robot or machine they think of could probably hurl us have way across the globe if that's what it meant to keep us apart!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Focus on reality for a second. They'll most likely lock you in lab-thingies than throw you across the world. They'll have to monitor you somehow."

I grabbed and threw a zebra-print pillow at her head, my aim surprisingly accurate for being upside down. "I'm depressed. Just let me sulk, why don'tcha?" The sun seemed to fade and the light in the room dimmed. What a perfect way to match my mood.

Rachel perked up suddenly. I frowned even deeper. I'd never had a real best friend, but weren't they supposed to help you through your pain and not get all cheery because of it? Just as I started to point this out, she zoomed up from her beanbag and nearly crashing into me as she landed on the bed in a precise belly flop.

"Don't hold out on me," she said seriously, propping herself up against the wall. "And I need you to be swear-to-God honest with me." Rachel drew in a deep breath and let it out calmly before exploding. "DID YOU GUYS KISS? I WANT DETAILS! HOW AWESOME OF A KISSER IS HE?"

Despite all the drama and chaos, I found myself looking at my best friend's gleaming wide eyes and giddy expression before cracking up. Soon we're rolling around the queen-sized bed and laughing at nothing yet anything at the same time.

"Answer…the…question." Each of Rachel words were slurred with fading hints of her ceasing laughter. "…Now!" I rolled my eyes and sat up the best I could, the end of my giggles bubbling up my throat.

"We kissed yesterday," I told her. "And yes, Chase is an amazing kisser!" Rachel squealed and pounded her fists on her bedspread.

"I knew it!" she cried, jumping up and doing some sort of happy dance. (Or what I guess was supposed to be dancing.) "Bree owes me ten bucks!" I raised an eyebrow at that sentence and watched amused as Rachel continued her celebration antics. But she started doing a manic like version of the sprinkler that included fist pumping and hair shaking.

"You guys bet on our relationship events?" I said skeptically. But I couldn't deny that I had a sneaking suspicion that they were going to anyway, whether Chase and I knew or not. "Do you know how typical that is? It makes us sound like that couple that everyone loves in those cliché and ultra-cheesy movies every girly girl fawns over. Like you." I nodded to her wide collection of romance movies-every love movie from _Walk to Remember_ to _Letters to Juliet_ was on display next to her TV.

Rachel stopped dancing to lie on her fuzzy blue rug. "I'm going to ignore that comment," she said with a lazy wave of her hand as she grabbed her TV remote and searched the channel until she came to Disney XD. "Oh!" she said excitedly, changing the subject to the show we were currently viewing: _Phineas and Ferb. _"I love Baljeet!" I crinkled up my nose at her confession.

"No way!" I cried, joining her onto the large oval rug and laying on my stomach and staring up at the huge flat screen as a tallish boy with cute green hair came on the screen. "Ferb totally has Baljeet beat. Green hair and a hot British accent is so cute!"

Rachel looked shocked but then smirked. "You have a crush on _Ferb?_" At my more than need enthusiastic nod, she smirked even more. "I wonder what Chase would think. Don't you think he'd get a tad bit jealous?" I just ignored her teasing and focused on the TV again. It was an episode I'd never seen before so I was kind of excited to watch it. Rachel seemed happy too, since she kept gushing about Baljeet "amazing curls" and "unique dressing style". Obviously, she had no taste in cartoons.

Rachel's Pov

After a couple of hours of popcorn eating/throwing and watching episodes (recorded or on TV) of _Phineas and Ferb, _Christine said she had to go because her dad had her on constant watch and wanted her home before seven thirty if she didn't have her phone.

I walked her out and we said our good-byes, telling each other we'd see each other tomorrow and catch up about our nights, I ran to my room and grabbed my phone. I quickly pressed speed dial 3.

"_Hello_?"

By the tone of her voice, I couldn't tell whether Bree was just tired or sad about something or what, but didn't ask. "Dude, I have the greatest news to tell you….!"

I made sure to include every detail about what Christine and I talked about-at some points, feeling guilty that I was betraying her trust. But, hey, it was for a good cause.

After I told her everything, Bree promised she'd figure out some way to get them passed their parents and tell me tomorrow.

I changed into some pajamas and brushed my teeth, crawling into bed feeling satisfied.

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><p>Bree's Pov<p>

Davenport was cool when he wanted to be. This much is true. But so is the fact that he can also be super strict.

That's what I was noticing while doing our training. He'd recently expanded the lab for more training and exercise space that we were in need of. Adam was off in the corner lifting weights and sometimes using Leo-who had claimed that he'd been dying of boredom upstairs and needed something to do-while I was testing my speed limit on the ultimate treadmill.

Chase was up sparring with some new dummies that Davenport was testing. Davenport himself was coaching him, egging him to do his best. I kept a careful eye on Chase to watch his mood. From how depressed he was being, it was hard to tell what he was going to act like.

"You aren't focusing!" cried out Davenport as he watchedd Chase deliever punches and kicks to a poor training dummy. I personally thought they were pretty good, only lacking a bit in strength. "Give it all you got! I'm not spending my millions of money on training dummies just so you can slack off!"

That was hasher than neccessary. Apparently Adam thought so because he stopped for a heartbeat longer than he usually did before shaking his head continuing.

After the call Rachel and I had earlier, my mind had been churning a lot more than usual. There had to be some way for Christine and Chase to meet or something some time. Davenport and Grant couldn't have us on parental survallience twenty-four seven because of the six hours we're at school. Plus, yesterday, Tasha told me that Davenport was angry because of him not being able to switch Chase's free period. That meant they still had the same time as one another-inculding me.

Suddenly, I heard louder grunts and harder contact. I snapped back into reality and watched as Chase kicked and punched harder and harder, features blurring. His eye color changed to a steely gray.

Spike was back.

I quickly jumped into action. I hurried off the treadmill and shouted to Adam and Leo in the corner, urging them to hurry up, as I grabbed onto Spike's arm and started to pull. The task was easier said than done. I sometimes did pull on Chase's arm (when he had the cereal I wanted in the morning or during sparring matches in training), but Spike had three times the strength and twice the stubborness.

"Knock it off!" I shouted, trying to tighten my grasp on Spike's arm-an impossible thing to do when he's trying to shake you off and charge like a mad bull into Davenport, who had backed himself into a corner and was screaming and screeching worse than Sammie does when her favorite _America's Next Top Model _constentant doesn't win.

Adam was nearly no help-all he did was grab onto a shoulder and pull, looking around the room with an idiotic expression on his face. "A little help would be nice!" Leo cried from his spot wrapped around Spike's leg. The move was enough to make his raging steps slower but not enough.

"I hate Davenport!" he screamed on and on, making his way closer and closer to Davenport. I had gotten so desperate that I hopped onto his back tried to tug him backward. "Going into attack mode."

Nothing was working. My legs had a vice grip around his torso with my arms flung around his neck. Naturally, this was awkward postion on its own, but with Adam yanking on Spike's shoulder and Leo shaking his leg, it just added to the awkwardness.

"Think about Christine," I said suddenly. I kept my voice low, so Davenport couldn't hear. My lips stayed close to Spike's ear, muscles tensing. "Do you want her to see you act like this?" I let one of my legs slide down inch by inch as I continued speaking, arms loosening. My words streamed along, consisting the message of how Christine would break up with him in a heartbeat from how he was acting. (I had no idea whether this was true or not.)

His eye color changed again; Chase's brown eyes blinked reapetedly, as if having a bright light shown in them. Leo untangled himself and stood and Adam let go of his shoulder but still continued to look around the room dopily.

"What happened?" Chase asked staring at us in confusion, his mood flickering from his earlier depression to confliction. I just stared at him in awe. Christine had a huge effect on his commando app. On Chase and Spike together, actually.

And that reailzation just gave me the best idea ever.

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><p><strong>So this was longer. And the part about Christine having a crush on Ferb? That's me. :) My friends and I all have cartoons crushes and tease each other about them all the time. And yeah, I think cute green hair and a British accent is hot, I'll admit it. :)<strong>

**So please review and be free to let us know what your cartoon crush is. :D**


	13. Chapter 12

**So here's the next chapter!**

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><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"Can't you just leave me alone?" I groaned again, feeling Bree pulling on my shirt sleeve. It's been a day and a half since I've seen Christine, and you really start to miss your girlfriend when you have no one to kiss in the morning. And Bree pulling and shoving me toward a janitor's closet that even the janitor's themselves don't go near anymore.

"You'll thank me later," Bree said smoothly instead. I was positive she was hiding something-which with Rachel coming up while dragging a squirming Christine behind her, confirmed almost everything I'd been suspecting.

What are you guys doing?" Christine whispered/yelled. "Davenport and my dad have this whole school crawling with bugs watching our every move. Are you two trying to get us grounded for life?"

She may have sounded a bit dramatic, but what she said was true. Ever since the whole parent-hating-each-other chaos the other day, I noticed people I didn't know following me to each of my classes a couple feet behind me and eyes peeking at me from the rim of books, textbooks, everything. No doubt the same thing was happening to Christine.

You never know how much you take advantage of your privacy until you have it taken away.

"We've got that covered," Bree and Rachel said as Rachel made very unsubtle motions with her ponytail toward Adam, who was leaning against a wall a distance away from our group, watching people go by in a very noticeable way.

Suddenly a loud crackle of feedback busted from the walkie talkies strapped to the girls' belts. "The chicken is clear of the coop," Adam's voice said. "Repeat, the chicken is clear of the coop."

Bree rolled her eyes but brought the device to her mouth. "Copy that," she said before placing it back on her belt.

"What does 'chicken is clear of the coop' even mean anyway?" Rachel asked, even though she in on whatever they were planning on doing. "We never said anything about having him saying that."

Bree just shrugged. "It's Adam," she pointed out. "Nothing he does or say makes much sense to anyone." That sentence made a really good point.

"Can someone please tell us what's going on?" I spoke up, gesturing between Christine and me.

Rachel turned to us while Bree threw open the janitor's closet door. "You're just going to have to trust us," she said easily before pushing Christine and me into the dank closet.

I could smell before I saw it. Mildew collected in the tiny corners of the room, and moth holes ate through the old fabric of a recliner pushed into a far back corner. Everything-the rotten oak wood shelves, bug raided buckets, nasty dirt-covered sink, everything- was covered in a thick layer of grime. The air reeked of abandoned cleaning supplies and vomit. A mirror so filthy and unused blended into the wall facing the door. What a lovely place for you and your girlfriend to meet.

Christine whirled around to face the door before grabbing on its rust doorknob and wiggling it. It was locked, although there were no locks on it, so Bree and/or Rachel must've been holding onto the other side while being on guard and alert.

"Let us out!" Christine called into the thin wood and kept wiggling the handle. We didn't get a response.

Suddenly there was a sharp crackle of feedback, making both of us wince. "What's that?" I asked after my dull headache was gone. Hearing a loud sound in a small room with advanced bionic hearing was painful when you're not ready for it-and I was not ready for it.

The crackle started up again but was quieter. I already knew what it was before even getting my answer. I walked over to the dirty sink and picked up the black walkie talkie. I clicked the green button on its side and raised it to my lips. "What's going on?"

As I released the button and held the device in my hand, Christine had already come over and was looking at the speaker as pointedly as I was.

"We'll explain everything later," Bree exclaimed, her voice seeming to echo off the walls.

"Davenport and Mr. G couldn't switch you guys' free period time slots," Rachel added with static mixing with her voice. "And this was the best way to get you guys to meet without anyone seeing; immune to the spy's eye."

I could practically feel Christine taking in a whiff of air before letting it out. "Lovely," she said sarcastically, "I get to meet my boyfriend in a gross, abandon janitor's closet that smells like animal crap. Just. Freaking. _Lovely."_

A huge part of me couldn't help but agree. We were having this rare moment alone (or alone as you can be with three people able to interrupt you on walkie talkie without knowing what you're doing) and we had to spend it in a rotten, horrid smelling janitor's closet crawling with bugs dead and alive.

"It's better than nothing," Bree said optimistically, trying to keep everyone's spirits high. "And the only thing we could get on short notice. But later we'll explain everything. Promise."

That's all she said before her voice faded into static.

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

In that closet, we squeezed all that we could in forty-five minutes. There was nothing to say because of us missing each other and hating our parents' decision-which we just ranted about before having a very long make-out session to let some pent up anger.

Later when I got home, I tossed my backpack on the couch and face planted into a fluffy throw pillow. Then let out a much strangled groan.

"Hey, kiddo," Rem said as she hung my backpack up, knowing very well that I wouldn't do it. "You looked frustrated."

I groaned again. "I have to meet my boyfriend in a stinky, dirty janitor's closet that smells like dog crap. And if that isn't something to be upset about, then I don't know what is."

Rem let out a mechanical laugh, sounding like a joyous computer hum. "I see those girls are trying to help you," she exclaimed while sitting me up. I just slouched.

"Does everyone know about their plan but Chase and me?" I asked her. Even Rem knew-who else did?

"Davenport and your father don't," Rem informed, fluffing up the pillows my body had ruined with my pathetic face plant. "But Tasha does. She wants you kids together as badly as Bree and Rachel and everybody else does." Her metal hand felt cold as she patted my shoulder. "And I don't want to give away anything I'm not supposed to, but I just you get your Skype together before you a very important meeting."

Rem left me with that, whirring into the kitchen, most likely to start dinner. I took her advice and rushed up to my room. I slammed the door-a loud slam that got a yell out of Rem-and flopped on my bed, opening up my fully charged laptop and logging into Skype.

I waited a bit before a named (RunningStar_9, no one I knew, at least I didn't think I knew) requested me, so I clicked. The window grew larger before I was staring at Bree, Rachel, and Chase.

You're a running star?" I asked Bree, since Chase's laptop's was broken and Rachel had hers stolen from Trina, who hogged it twenty-four seven.

Bree mock glared at me. "Don't judge," she said before smiling and changing the subject. "So, we know the closet isn't the best thing in the world…"

"Understatement of the century," Chase muttered under his breath, making me smile. Bree just glared and continued.

"Anyway, we have gotten the schedules for both Davenport and Grant with help of Tasha and Rem and discovered the have meetings through-out the next couples months, all in between 3-10 and/or 9-12 out of town in the evening." She lifted up a then stack of papers with times and locations highlighted different colors.

I nodded along, everything making sense, until something made me stop and pause. "If Mr. Davenport is your dad…" I started, since that always what I had assumed, "so then why do you call him Davenport instead of Dad?"

Chase and Bree both paused and exchanged sneaky glances that I wasn't supposed to see and blurted out at the same time "He's our adopted Dad!" before looking at each other again.

"Okay…" Rachel and I said slowly, both sounding awkward.

"Getting that out of the way," Rachel said. "The park a street over from both your houses stay open to the public until midnight but no one goes there after seven thirty. So with the in mind, you guys should be able to meet for a little over two hours if you both leave your respective houses at six fifty-seven, no later than seven." She took in a deep breath before motoring on. "Then you should get enough time from seven thirty to nine-thirty and getting to your homes but nine forty-five, fifteen minutes under your curfews. And since you're going to need them from time to time, we have a few volunteers helping out with excuses; like in case Davenport or Grant ask in you've been at a specific place-the library or on a jog around downtown-which you said to them when you're really sneaking out to see each other."

Rachel took in another big, deep breath, before smiling at the three of us, who were staring at her in shock. "Do you know how much of an office lady you sounded like when you said that?" I asked her, with Bree nodding along in agreement.

Our cheerful friend just shrugged as if it no big deal and she heard it all the time. "My mom's a lawyer," she explained. "Public speaking's in my blood."

"So who's helping us exactly?" Chase spoke up. "I mean like Rem and Tasha, Adam and Leo are, but who else is, because Davenport and Grant would suspect something if they were covering for us." He had a good point.

"Sammie, Trina, some of Leo's geek friends, Ashley, and a couple of guys Trina and Ashley convinced to help us from gym class." Bree ticked off the people on her fingers as she listed them.

"And my parents are willing to cover for you guys," Rachel supplied. "Saying Christine hung out at my place studying or whatever."

Bree added them to her list that she had apparently organized on a piece of notebook paper. "Well Romeo and Juliet," she said, looking at Chase then me with a corny smile. "It looks like this plan is officially in action!"

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><p><strong>I made this longer for you guys since we've kept you waiting. (Blame my stupid computer for that.) So, leave us your thoughts in a review. :)<strong>


	14. Chapter 13

**I'm going to apologize ahead for the crapiness this chapter might be. I can't stop coughing and been busy with other stuff, so this might be super sloppy and crappy.**

**I'm going to Disney soon, in less than a week. I don't know how that's going to affected my writing pace but I'm going to be in the car and have easy computer access a lot so I might be able to have two chapters done but I might not.**

**Just thought I'd give you a heads up, just in case you were expecting a quick update.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"Is there any special reason as to why I have to wear a red hoodie?" I asked as Sammie zipped me up in her brother's old Aeropostal jacket.

She wrinkled up her nose and sniffed the sleeve that swallowed my arm. "It stills smells like boy," she complained as she fixed my hair and popped the hood over my head. I really didn't even mind the smell; I took a sniff of the shoulder and got another sniff of Axe and laundry detergent mixed with sweat.

Sammie grabbed a small red bottle and spritzed it all over me, peeking hair from inside jacket included. "Much better," she said with a satisfied sigh. I just coughed and looked at her, waving my hand in front of my face to clear the air. Sammie just shrugged and flashed the label in my face. "Japanese Cherry Blossom," she said as if made a difference. "The greatest smell in, like, ever!"

I just shrugged. "Are you sure your brother doesn't mind me wearing this?" I asked instead, spinning and showing off the huge red jacket that was way too big for my body. "Doesn't he want to wear it?"

Sammie kept circling around me, adjusting the jacket here and there while fixing my hair and clothes. "Quinn has plenty of jackets. I'm suring he wouldn't care about missing just one." Her sharp maicured hands wizzed around and tuck in my hair into the hood then straightened out my shirt before zipping up the hoodie. "There," she said with a satisfied smile. "Done."

I stepped and turned to look at myself in her full length mirror. I looked unrecongizable- with the large white sunglasses, dark jeggings, worn DC sneakers (and quite colorful shoelaces, according to Sammie.), and the oversized boy jacket hanging to my knees and engulfing nearly my entire form, I looked like any other girl on her way to the library or to Starbucks to get a drink for a long study night ahead of her.

"Perfect," I told Sammie, who had taken place beside me to long in the mirror. "Great job." Just then I noticed how completely different we were with her dark wavy tresses and magazine perfect face and top dollar clothes. If a person caught a glimpse of us through the window, they'd think we'd be enemies and hate each other. But we were just the opposite.

"You'd better hurry," she spoke, swiftly pushing me toward the door. "Callan's going to be here for phase two."

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><p>Callan was what people would describe as the typical jock type of guy. With his beach blond hair, ocean pretty eyes, and Austrailian accent, he had girls falling at his feet. I didn't see what the big deal was, but from what I know from accidently bumping into him once, he was nice and unlike all the other pretty boys of the school. Bree also mentioned something about him being a part of the basketball team or soemthing like that.<p>

He was sitting casually on a nearby bench across the street from Sammie's house as planned. Rachel earlier explained that we were supposed to walk around like good friends who hadn't seen each other in forever and somehow make our way to the park where Ashley was supposed to be with Chase.

Callan was leaning over, like reading a book, and just sitting there, like he needed somewhere quiet to read. I casually crossed over to him and tapped his shoulder, sliding my hand back into the hoodie's deep pockets when he looked up at me. Most girs were right about his eyes being pretty and ocean blue but wrong about another- they didn't make my heart melt like Chase's beautiful brown eyes did.

"Hey, aren't you in my English class?" I said smoothly as a young couple from three houses over passed us. "Is that the book we have to read for the reading assignment? I'm only on the tenth chapter."

Callan looked up at me and closed the book on his lap. The purple ad black cover looked up at me. Our English teacher had us reading paranormal series and thought that _The Immortals _series would be perfect. His right eye snuck a peek at the couple; they were far away to not be in earshot.

"Nice cover," he commented as he stood and stretched. I'm sure he wasn't trying to show off-purposely anyway-but when his shirt rose, I caught sight of his rock hard abs. Again, I thought about how they didn't even seem to compare to Chase's body. "Should we start walking?"

And that's what we did. We just started walking down the street toward downtown. Sammie lived at least three streets over so we had a good fifteen minute walk. Most of it was pretty awkward. We didn't talk unless we saw a coup of people from school, then started talking about we teachers were the worst and which were the nicest.

As we rounded the corner and crossed the street, I caught sight of a familiar old brick sign with with rusty painted letters standing tall next to a flickering light post. It couldn't seem to decide to stay on or off; it was only a few minutes to seven and dusk was settling over head.

"I think I see them." I squinted and leaned closer as we continued walking. It wasn't foggy and not completely dark but still hard tell if it was them or not. There were two-a boy and a girl. They were standing kind far out of everything's way, back near an old oak tree and crumbling concrete bench.

Latching onto Callan's wrist, I pulled him along until we were only a yard or so away before jogging to Ashley and Chase. Ashely was filing her nails, looking bored and out of place in her quarter sleeved shirt and black mini skirt matching her ankle breaking wedges.

But Chase looked perfect. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I stared at his great outfit consisting of grey and white button down shirt, black jeans, and grey hightops-absolutely perfect. His smile was knee weakening and his arms engulfing me felt world changing. I tried to remember the last time I had a boyfriend that made me feel as on top of the world as I had then; I couldn't think of any.

"Hey," he said into my hair, sending shivers down my spine. chase squeezed me tighterand I'm positive he felt me smile into his chest. "What's with all the red, miss Riding Hood?"

I let out a laughed felt a chuckle rise from deep inside his chest. I pulled away and turned to Ashley. "Yeah, what it with all this red?" I did a spin so she could get a full view of the jacket.

Ashley shrugged. "We needed a way to keep track of you and red is your best color." She put her hands on her hips and turned to Callan. "We should get out of here and let these crazy kids have their fun." She swivled and shot us a wink. "But not too much fun." I blushed and watched her drag Callan away from us and out of the park.

Chae watched them disappear and looked down at me. He took my hands in his and rubbed his thumb over my hands. "You know what next week is?" he asked, pulling me closer. "I know I do."

I nodded into his chest. "Our one month anniversary."

"Seems longer than a month though," Chase said, shifting to rub his hands up and down my arms. It sent another wave of shivers down my spine.

"I know," I said into his soft cottony shirt. I gripped him tighter before pulling away and immediately missing his arms.

"What do you want to do?" Chase asked, inspecting me with his eyes. His gaze shifted to the bench before looking back at me. I nodded and pulled him onto the bench, careful the be cautious about the little cracks and chunks missing from the end.

Twining our fingers together and holding them in my lap, I rested my head on his shoulder. "What do you wat to talk about?"

Chase smiled down at me. "Everything."

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

Later that night, I kissed Christine good-bye and promised I'd see her tomorrow one way or another. It was only nine thirty by the time I got home and checked to see if Mr. Davenport was in the living room before sitting down next to Tasha.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked her nervously. "Like a romantic question?"

Tasha eyed me from over her book and took a glacne around before tossing it onto the coffee table. "Spill it," she said excitedly leaning closer.

I messed with my hands and stared down at my lap. "Chris and I's anniversary is coming up," I started. "Adn I was hoping that would tell me-"

"What she would want?" Tasha finished as she got up and started for the kitchen. She got out a mug and poured herself some coffee as then faced me again. "Well, what does she like?"

I drummed my fingers against the counter. "We like the same kind of things," I said, thinking aloud. "Like the Hunger Games, the same type of movies. But she told me that her past boyfriends never went all out for her or got her anything special." I looked Tasha square in the eyes as I continued on. "I want to be different. Get her something so people know she's mine." After I finished my sentence, a strange feeling pulling at my gut knew that I was talking about Callan. Something about him didn't seem right to me. But then again, I could just be getting jealous.

Tasha looked to be deep in thought as she spoke. "Well it sounds like she would want to be kind of spoiled," she suggested. "Like maybe a necklace or classy little charm bracelet. Something to let her know you care." Her eyes got clouded as she stared past me. "My father got my mother a really lovely locket with an engraved promise on the back. Try something like that and I gaurentee she'll love you forever." She snapped her focus back to me and gave me a smile. "But it seems to me she already does."

I thanked her for the advice and went upstairs to collaspe on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. The locket story gave me an idea. The perfect idea.

* * *

><p><strong>So how was that? I tried to make it longer, But I've been a little busy like I said in the other Author's Note. Leave a review. And we would love to hear your ideas for Chase's 'idea' for Christine.<strong>

**Review please. :)**


	15. Chapter 14

**First things first, I came out with a new Good Luck Charlie one-shot called _Speak Now _that I recommend you guys to read. It kind of has a bunch of different couples in it and is set a few years into the future. Also a song fic to the Taylor Swift song. So check that out.**

**The next two or three chapters of this story are briefly planned and drafted because I want to get them out before my vacation because I'll be busy and don't want you to think I've dropped writing these chapters completely. I realized that this may seem a little bit like a filler type of chapter, and it is a little. But, oh well.**

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

It was Saturday already. Christine had warned me last night that her dad was going to have her under heavy survallience and I assured her that it was probably going to be the same with me.

The morning started out pretty normal (aside from the breakfast that was three times as awkward than usual). By the time Davenport was positive I wasn't planning anything suspicious that involved Christine, Bree had taken off to Trina and Rachel's (claiming to be really busy with a school project-_I really need some help to get this done, and I've already checked-it's not cheating_).

I was just staring up at the ceiling, thinking about what I was going to get Christine for an anniversary gift. Maybe it was because I've never liked surprises or because I really just wanted to know, but somehow I kept trying to convince myself I couldn't get her something without knowing what she was getting me.

"Later peoples," Adam called as he started for the door. I watched him as I dragged myself into a sitting position.

"Where are you going?" I asked suspiciously. All Adam did on weekends is hog the training equipment and whine about wanting a pet pig.

Adam turned at the last minute to answer. "Me and my partner have to do some history project on the 'Leaning Tower of Pizza," he said with a shrug before opening the door. "Meeting at the library."

I flopped back onto the couch, not even bothering to correct his mistake of the landmark name or his grammar and just listened to him holler a good-bye and slam the door shut behind him, making me wince. Once I was alone again, I continued to stare up at the ceiling, a hand slipping into my pocket and fingering the edge of the folded notebook paper. It slipped out, being held between my index and middle finger. The paper was smoothed and unwrinkled against my torse before I brought it up and examined it.

"What is that?" Leo asked, seemingly popping out of nowhere. He leaned over the back of couch, his head nearly hitting against the picture. "Is that for Christine?" Leo asked against, his voice quieter because of the pointed look I shot at him. So what if I was being a little too paranoid? I had every right too.

"Hey!" I shouted, alarmed, as Leo snatched the picture away from me and held it up into the light. It wasn't a lot, just sketch my idea that I saw online. The long bronze chain looked stronge and delicate at the same time as it dipped down from the weight of the heart shaped locket. The locket itself was the main part with the diamond swan gracefully spreading its wings, captured in mid flight. "Can't you mind your own business for once?" I said, less annoyed and more anxious for the piece of paper back.

Leo shrugged and folded it back into fourths before tossing it to me. "If you're going to the mall for whatever you're planning to do with that," he started, "then I'm coming with you." The idea of Leo coming to mall-and a huge one with more jewelry stores than comic book havens, no less- was so far-fetched, it didn't seem very likely for him to go willingly.

"Are you turning into a spy too?" I warily eyed him, looking for any peeking wires to confirm his betrayal.

Leo huffed. "Janelle is still mad about the whole 'ditching her at the movies' thing," he exaggerated, using dramatic finger quotations to emphasize his frustration. "I figured if she wasn't going to listen me, then bribery should do it."

I snorted and started toward the door, Leo on my heels, until thudding footfalls coming down the stairs froze me in my tracks.

"What are you two doing?" Mr. Davenport asked. I knew it was him before even turning around. "Or should I say where are you going?" With each spoken word, he took a step closer. By now, He'd moved from the staircase completely and settled for questioning us from behind the couch, gripping the white material in his fists.

Leo shot me a frantic side-ways glance. I shrugged and buried my hand deep into my pockets, leaning against the our only means of escape from the interrogation. "It's our friend's birthday," I recited, remembering a list of excuses Bree supplied to me in case of an emergency like this ever happening. "We're trying to find her something nice, but when we checked online, the prices were too high so we're going to check in the stores for lower sale prices or some clearance stuff."

Mr. Davenport squinted. I stared back, gaze as hard and as blank as ever. Finally, he just shook his head and dismissed us with a wave of his hand. When his back was turned and his started walking away again, Leo silently fist pumped the air as I urged him out the door.

* * *

><p>Bree's Pov<p>

"Why can't you just tell me?" Christine whined. She'd been doing this since I got there, attacking me with '_why not's' _and '_so what's" _about what Chase was getting her for the anniversary. "I need to know _something _about it or I will die!"

I rolled my eyes and hit on of her dangling legs from where they were carelessly thrown over the arm of a leather love seat. I was taking up most of the matching couch, leaning against the arm and staring crookedly at the flashing TV. "Does it really matter what he gets you?" I inquired for the umpteenth time; I'd only been there for an hour and it felt like a century with the non-stop whining on Christine's part.

While Christine gave me the whole bug-eyed ordeal, I considered briefly what I was even doing here in the first place. I'm up to my hairline in homework, been slacking (slightly, but still slacking) in training, and was going against orders of Mr. Davenport. But still, it wasn't a _complete _lie. I was at Trina and Rachel's, we were working on a project-an important one at that-, and we were all present: Rachel laying on the coffee table, Trina on her stomach, flipping through a magazine, and Christine and I were still in the middle of our bickering session.

"Of course it matters!" Christine crooned, kicking my hanging arm mockingly. "How am I supposed to know what to get him when I do't know if even compares to what he's getting me?"

Rachel let out a loud, uneccessary groan. "I need to go to the bathroom," she annouced randomly, but stayed stretched out, socked feet thudding against the floor.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Then get up and go," I told her. "It's not like you don't know where it is."

Rachel groaned again and whipped her head around the face me. "But I don't want to get up," she whined childishly. "The bathroom's too far away."

"Your laziness and stupidity to even use your legs is pathetic, 'Lil Sis," Trina added from the floor, giving Rachel a shove. "Just get off your butt and pee already. It's not like you're missing anything thrilling." The oldest teen thrusted her head in the direction of the TV. "Dr. Phil's on commercial break."

Finally, Rachel just huffed and crossed her arms, sprinting to the bathroom as if she didn't want to miss a minute of even when he's on break.

"Hey," Chrisitne exclaimed suddenly, her voice sounding way more loud and excited than usual. She scrambled to sit up straighter while still managing to slouch and looked at me with a sudden new glint. "What's the name of that show Chase's always obsessing about? Flipper something, right?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, something to do with dolphins and science and stuff like that," I agreed, thumping my head against the couch.

"You mean Shark Man & Flipper Boy?" Trina suggested, so caught up in a make-up quiz she didn't notice our shocked faces until she looked up when hearing the sudden silence. Instead of getting overly offended or making a dramatic mess of out nothing, Trina just shrugged and flipped to another page. "What? A girl can learn a lot of stuff when babysitting for two science crazy nine year-olds."

Christine snapped her fingers. "Yeah," she bursted excitedly. "That's the one." In fierce motions that seemed to blur, she grabbed Rachel laptops and clicked away at the keyboard. "I know exactly what I'm going to do."

Rachel sprinted back to her coffee table and slipped right back on, a stolen cookie from the fresh plate on the table beside me in her hand and partically her mouth. She groaned intolerant words when she noticed she missed a part of Dr. Phil-a _very _important five seconds, that must of been, too-but said nothing of her laptop taken or the loud sighing and page turning coming from her sister.

"What are you doing?" I asked my brunette friend, watching type away and burn holes through the screen.

Christine shrugged and glanced at me for a milisecond. "Are you going to tell me what he's getting me?"

"Nope."

"Rats!"

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

The mall was as busy as I hoped it would be. There were was a good side and a bad side to this. The good side: Leo and me would be camoflouged from spies in the big groups of people taking up the gapes between stores; the bad side: We wouldn't be able to tell who was watching us more closely than others.

"This place fancy shamncy," Leo whistled as we entered the newest jewelry store, Crystal Kisses. I found the name to be very cheesy and absured, but didn't say anything I looked from display case to display case. "Are you sure you're going to be able to afford the stuff they have here? I was just going to get Janelle some candy necklaces and maybe a thing of ChapStick."

I shrugged at his cheap nature and leaned closer to examine a expensive twine of pearls and diamonds.

"Can I help you with something?"

Jumping and nearly hurting myself on the case, I spun to face a tall African-American man with a tipped fedora perched on his head. He seemed nice enough, smiling as if working with gold and diamonds was his life.

My hand went into my pocket and nervously handed him the well-creased paper. "Do you have this available?"

He rubbed his lips together and scratched his stubbled face. "Ah." I wrinkled my nose at the way he said that, it sounding way to admiring for it to seem friendly. "The vintage collection. Number 709. Quite a beauty it is, indeed."

I gripped the cool steel edge of the counter I was leaning on as he strode into a back room. He approached only minutes later with a velvet square box in hand. The motion was fluid as he tossed in the air, the graceful effect ruined when it barely landed in my clumsy catch.

"So what's this for?" When I saw him lean against the other side, I caught a quick glance at his name tag. Murry. Good name, at least it fit his jazzy like image. "Birthday? Tough break-up? Tragic accident?"

I shook my head at his quick list of events. "Actually, Murry." I kept a close eye on the box in front of me. "Would this work for an anniversary?"

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><p><strong>Like I said, this is really more of a filler chapter than anything. I wanted to put some humor in the sotryline as well since the last few chapters had been so serious and dramatic. And if you see a word spelt wrong or something, it's only because I was sitting next to a big, old-smelling dictionary and was looking for some new words to use.<strong>

**Before I start working on the next chapter, I'm going to try and publish a Bree/Chase one-shot because I've already started working on it and getting some advice from WritersWayOfLife. (So sorry if I spelt that wrong.)**

**So please leave a review about what you think. We love to hear your feedback.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Back with another chapter. First, I have to say that you need to check out a new Austin & Ally fic WritersWayOfLife made. It's called 'The Name On Everybody's Lips Goanna Be' and it's truly incredible. I recommend for whenever you're over looking for a good Austin & Ally story, read that one.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"What were you doing last night with my laptop?" Rachel asked. "I was too busy with Dr. Phil to ask."

I quirked an eyebrow and gave her a look. Somehow with her major bedhead and wrinkled puppy pajamas, she still managed to look great. I pressed my lips together and leaned against the island, still half asleep as I reply. "Did a little online gift shopping. Still have no clue what to get him and Friday isn't that far away!"

Rachel shrugged and sat down in the bar seat next to mine and watched as I thumped my head against the island. "You know, I don't need your dad coming over here saying you a got concussion while you spent the night here," she remarked as her mom set down plates full of food in front of us. She continued on, her words scrambled and messed up from her busy job of chewing scrambled eggs.

"There's this thing called chewing with your mouth closed," I groaned, fork pit stopped from my mouth. "Try doing it some time." Feeling satisfied I worked out my morning sourness; I let the food get driven smoothly into my mouth and ignore Rachel's mocking glare and pouty face.

Trina came down stairs minute later, fluffed and perfect as she got a glass of orange juice and popped two slices of bread into the toaster. Rachel crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.

"It's not even noon," she huffed. "Yet you still have to look like you're going to walk down a freaking runway?"

I tried to ignore them and took a crunchy bite from my bacon. There was a golden rule when it came to Rachel and Trina: never interfere with their bickering, it'll just make stuff worse.

Trina narrowed her eyes and slathered grape jelly on her food. "The bride of Frankenstein called," she countered, "she wants her hair back."

Finally I just stood from my seat and spread my hands in a peace gesture. "Ladies, we're all beautiful; now quit fighting over me." I sat down and watched the twins look at each other before busting out laughing. My work was done.

After finishing off our plates and getting ready to face the day, I latched onto Rachel's wrist, grabbed our purses and ragged here out the door. I kept moving forward, not even responding even she kept whining, "I'm _so not _in the right shoes for walking!"

We both stopped in front of a little modern barn shaped building with a freshly polished rooster sitting properly on the roof. The smell of hay and painted wafted in from the open doors. "We're at the Science Toy Barn?" Rachel said in disbelief, gaping as I pushed her into the shop. "What the heck are we doing here?

It wasn't my favorite place. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the middle of all the classy perfume shops and jewelers that mobbed the building from all around.

"Howdy partner!" called out a deep southern accent from somewhere in the back. "What can I help you fine ladies with?"

"Oh, Charlie," sighed another voice. This one was obviously a girl, her accent not as thick and noticeable. A lady with waist long hair and a beaming smile walked out with her hands spread in a welcoming gesture. "Sorry about my husband," she apologized with an easy smile. "He can get a little over board about the whole barn thing. Anyhow, my name is Darla; what can I help you two ladies with?"

Rachel shrugged and nudged me in the rib cage with her elbow as she took a quick glance around. "This place is pretty cool," she admitted, crossing her arms and wandering closer to a display of small test tubes that were rested on a big bale of hay. "How'd you come up with it?"

A tall hairy guy with a big belly and a toothy grin popped up from under a counter in the back. "Used a little imagination and a good vision of the ole' hometown and got her a runnin'," he explained proudly while wrapping a muscular around Darla, whom I guessed was his wife. "And couldn't be happier."

Darla rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a playful shove. "Enough about our life story," she chided lightly, turning to me. "Was there something specific you were lookin' for, Hun?"

I dug a hand deep into my jean pocket and pulled out a Post-It I'd written on. I furrowed my eyebrows as I tried to read it. My penmanship had never been the best when I was tired. "I'm trying to find some stuff for my boyfriend," I exclaimed earnestly. "He really likes the science channels and has this old show that he loves. I'm trying to find some stuff for him for our one month anniversary." I stopped and clicked my tongue against my cheek feeling like I said too much.

Darla clasped her hands against her chest. "Well isn't that the sweetest thing?" she cooed as she sauntered to a pyramid of rectangular boxes. "The smart ones are always the sweetest."

Charlie clapped his hands together then pointed at himself. "Just take me for instance," he said matter-of-factly. "I was the school nerd and ended up with the homecoming queen."

Darla shot him a look crossed with annoyance and happiness. Rachel drew a heart in the air and let out a long, dreamy 'awww'. "How cute," she gushed, stepping closer to me. "Almost like you and Chase." I just shook my head and ignored her fan-girl attitude on romance and turned to Darla.

"Do you have anything on-" I snuck another glance at the paper-"Shark Man & Flipper Boy?" I crinkled my nose as I stared down at my messy, bumpily scrawled out handwriting. I really needed to be more careful when leaving myself notes.

Charlie looked up at the rafters before looking back at me with his eyes wide, fingers snapping. "Oh!" he said excitedly. "Darlin', what'd you do with those old posters with those men with fins and gills on it?" He scrambled to leaning taped up tubes.

Darla peered at him from over a tall box tower she carried in her hands. "Those old things?" She swiftly set the boxes the side, dusted off her hands, and picked up at cylinder layered with a thin coat of cobwebs. "No one's wanted this thing in forever. Was gonna put em' up in the old attic later today." Darla gestured up to a tall wooden ladder leading up to where bale after bale of hay was sitting side by side. "Good thing you asked for them when you did."

"But I thought Shark Man & Flipper whatever was a new type of thing?" Rachel said, going back to looking and touching everything she passed. I shifted my weighted and rubbed my lips together, giving the barn another look around even though nothing had changed.

"That's the new fancy shmancy version," Charlie scoffed and waved away her confusion dismissively. "This is from old times. Back when people could survive without their little thingy-what its or whatever you rowd'ers call em'."

Rachel and I turned to each other. _Rowd'ers? _We mouthed but then just shrugged and went along with it.

Darla uttered a swear word or two as she swatted away from spiders trying to continue fancy web work. Rachel did a shutter dance when they crawled up the wall. "Antique is what they are," the older woman claimed. "The 1940's version: a pure classic."

I clapped my hands together and did an excited little jump. "That's perfect for Chase!" I exclaimed happily. "He's always going on about how he's wanted to see the old version to compare and contrast it with the new one."

Charlie let out a whistle. "Yes sir-ee. That's a smart one alright. Always know what's best."

Darla popped up beside her husband and thrust the old cylinders into my arms. After her urging me to I unrolled a long, fine looking poster and held up in front of me. Even I had to admit it looked pretty cool. The picture of two men with exotic gills was popping out and long, sleek fins slicing the water as they dropped into the ocean and swam surround by hundred schools of fish.

"Wow," Rachel sighed with a dreamy glint. I've known her long enough to tell that was her _that's a really hot dude _look. "The taller one's a hunk."

Darla cocked a hip and tilted her head. "Yeah," she agreed with a lopsided smile, "Shark Man was a cute one." I took another look at the poster and shrugged.

Charlie huffed and rolled his eyes. "Cute for a sushi bar, maybe." Rachel widened her eyes and put a hand to her mouth to stop an oncoming snort to let loose. But it was nothing compared to the full-out giggle session I had as I watched Darla elbow Charlie in the stomach.

"Jealousy isn't the best color on you, my dear," she informed, smiling at Rachel and me before nodding her head toward the register. "Is that all you'll be getting today?"

Rachel pursed her lips and looked at me for an answer. Sweeping another quick shot around the room, I stopped on a setup of stuffed animals attached with little informational booklets strapped to their wrists.

"Actually, I just need a couple more things."

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"A little focus would be nice," grumbled Mr. Davenport as he watched me strike down another dummy. I curled my fists together and shot another perfectly fine kick toward an unsuspecting punching bag. He's been like this all training sessions ever since he 'banned' Christine and me ever seeing each other again. His phone or blue tooth glued to his ear nearly twenty-four seven. I think he might even be sleeping with on too; the weirdest I've seen him act in months.

"You're doing fine," Bree encouraged with a knowing look. She's knew why I was acting so out of focus-I couldn't stop thinking about whether or not Christine would like my present for her. Bree had seen it last night after I came home from the mall with Leo. If anyone was going to respond close enough to how Christine would, it would definitely be Bree.

"Actually, your punches are a little off," Leo commented from where he was observing on top of the desk. I glared at him and watched Bree shove him to the floor, feeling a little bit better when I heard the loud thud he made.

Davenport sighed and walked away, muttering interrupted sentences into his phone as he walked away.

"He's been acting weird," Adam noted with a weight over his head.

Bree rolled her eyes. "No duh."

* * *

><p>No Pov<p>

"What do you mean it's not her birthday?" Davenport demanded in a sharp hushed tone, clutching his phone. "It's not like he knows any other girls." There was an eruption of static from the other end and he could just barely manage to make out the words his assistant said. Davenport reached a hand up and pressed his fingers to his temples. "Alright," he concluded, "I'll check it out."

He snapped his phone shut and entered the training area again. "Chase," he called to the youngest lab rat. "Whose birthday is it again?"

Chase stopped and held a dummy but its shoulders. He met eyes with Bree and tried to pray his frantic expression was just uncovered enough for her to notice. All she did in return was meekly shrug. "Uh, it's," he started, "Rachel's friend's birthday, Natalie. She didn't know what to get her so I just got something for her."

Bree nodded in agreement and shot him a look. _Nice save._

Davenport looked at the four of them hard. Then just shook his head and rubbed his temples. "Back to training," he muttered before walking out of the room.

Chase let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Too close.

* * *

><p><strong>Not as long as I<strong> **wanted it to be but still long. I gave you a sort of cliffie because I want to see if you guys can figure it out.**

**On a completely random note, you know a few chapters back where I said Ferb was my cartoon crush? Well, today I meet him and Phineas, got a picture and some autographs, and bought the doll at a store. Best day ever. :) **


	17. Chapter 16

**All of my readers know, I tell you guys why I'm slow or fast with updating my stories or why certain one-shots are made. So I'm going to give you a little background on this story**

**Sterlingismyknight requested this story and since then, we've become partners in crime and are always tossing around ideas and trying to come up with the perfect thing for our reviewers and readers. We take ideas and suggestions to consideration and try to fit in everyone's thoughts so you guys can be a part of it to. We love when you give us help with things like presents and stuff that should happen, it's great. **

**And you guys are so supportive too, it's crazy. When I got her PM saying she wanted me to write a love story about Chase, I had no idea it get this big. I'm known for my updating to be a bit sketchy and all over the place-something I really need to work on by the way. Planning and editing isn't my thing, and my obvious spelling mistakes and easily messed-up-late-night grammar mistakes are seen in my writing. **

**I want to be a writer. Like everyone else on this sight. But I never thought that people would actually love my stories and always want alerts and stuff for more. I've never been good with confidence in my stories, most people brining me down because of them saying that I'd never get people to like my stories. And you know it's a sign you need to get better friend when complete strangers are more supportive of your writing skills than the people you know are, i.e. the people at school or other places.**

**So I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you. Everyone loves the story so far. And I got a review saying that person (Corii, I think the name was) was hesitant to read this story-I'm so glad you were hesitant to read this! I was hesitant to write it.**

**This isn't going to be a special chapter or anything. This was just something that I needed to get off my chest and didn't want to post it on my profile. I'm weird like that.**

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"Guess who?"

Her hands were warm as they covered my eyes. I already had a perfect picture of how she looked behind me: standing on the tips of her Converse, eyes shining and smiling and she leaned her head against my back.

I tapped my foot against the floor and tried to think of the last person Christine would want to be mistaken for. "Is it Snooki?" I supplied, peeling her fingers away and turning, grinning down at her as she wrinkled her nose.

"God, no," Christine responded, "that walking tan machine has some serious problems going on." I laughed and kissed her cheek, pulling away in time to see her face flush and her eyes duck to floor. "Who's on watch this time?"

Christine subtly motioned her head toward a small skinny guy warily looking over the top of a comic book. "The Nerd Patrol."

I sighed and shook my head. "They're nice guys," I said, "but I don't really think I can depend on them with hiding our relationship."

"Ditto to that."

I laughed and kissed her cheek before hurrying and pulling her toward a closet. Most of the school-staff included, oddly enough-knew about Christine and mine relationship secrecy and had gotten used to it. The teachers, female ones mostly, apparently found it 'cute' and 'proof that we're not puppy love like the rest of the school's boyfriends and girlfriends'. And that's just what I heard in teacher's lounge.

Just as I was opening the door, the lovely Miss Perry herself stepped up to us. "What do you maggots think you're doing?" she demanded, arms crossed. "I don't need the likes of you breaking the school's cleaning equipment. We don't need to buy anymore!"

Christine looked at me and pressed her lips together. She stood straighter, giving Miss Perry an even look. "This is a couple's crisis," she stated as if explained everything-and it kind of did. "And aren't you supposed to be at home, guarding your cats from your mother?"

Miss Perry glanced around suspiciously before darting off to who knows where. I laughed and pulled Christine into the closet, making sure the door was locked and the walkie talkie in the sink was on.

"Happy anniversary," Christine grinned before reaching up and pressing her lips to mine. Smiling against her lips, I pulled her closer and turned us around, her back pressing to the door. Despite the awful smell of stale bleach and the dirt clinging to everything, this had be the best moment of my life. I gripped her waist harder and Christine pulled on my hair, my arms tightly around my neck. She sighed as I kissed down her jaw, stopping and kissing her lips again.

We both pulled away and looked at each other, panting. I leaned down so my mouth was right next to her ear. "Happy anniversary," I whispered before kissing her again.

* * *

><p>No one's Pov<p>

The couple spent the whole school day hiding and sneaking kisses and romantic looks each other's way. Their friends and helpers found it an odd combination of cute and disgusting the whole time.

When the end of the day approached, Christine didn't even have a chance to risk a good-bye kiss before being dragged out the doors by a mysterious curly haired girl and Sammie. "Why are you two kidnapping me?" she asked bluntly as they came to a stop in front of Sammie's house.

"This is Janelle," she introduced instead of answering. The other girl waved as they dragged the confused brunette up the stairs. "And we're getting you ready for your date."

Christine looked at the two smiling girls weirdly before glancing to the bed. "You already have it pick out?" she questioned, staring the black and white stripped tank, blue knee length skirt, short black leggings, and brown heeled boots taking up the queen sized quilt.

"This is nothing," retorted Janelle with a wave of her hand. "On her last date with Rodney Kelly, she had her outfit picked out for three weeks-two weeks before he even asked her."

Sammie blushed and started bustling around her room, gathering up perfume bottles and make-ups kits into her arms. "Let focus on the problem at hand: getting Christine beautified." The aforementioned girl shot her eyebrows to her hairline.

"What that supposed to be a compliment?" she thought a loud, her question going unanswered as she was ambushed by clothes then pushed into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later Christine was standing in front of a familiar full length mirror, admiring her friends' quick work. In just that short amount of time, she'd been shoved into an amazing outfit-thank God she and Sammie were the same size-, had her hair brushed and sprayed, perfumed and mascaraed, and thanks to Janelle's handiwork, bejeweled almost ridiculously well.

"And you're sure you don't mind me wearing stuff?" Christine worried as she examined the rubies hanging from her ears and the silver bands resting on her wrists.

Sammie dismissed her words and fussed with her top, straightening it out then smoothing her hair and fixing the diamond studded headband. "There," she said satisfied. "You look amazing."

Janelle clapped her hands together and jumped up and down. "Absolutely perfect," she agreed.

Christine one more glance in the mirror. She messed with a curl (ignoring Sammie's complaining when she did so). "Thank you guys so much," she finally sighed out, turning and hugging the two girls. When she pulled away, Christine smiled. "Now it's time to the presents ready."

* * *

><p>"So why exactly are the two of you helping me get ready?" Chase asked as Leo and Bree ran in and out of his closet and picked at the stuff in his drawers. "Why can't I just do it by myself?"<p>

Bree stopped from where she was raiding his top drawer, a shirt in hand. "You're regular plaid shirt, under shirt, and jeans make work on a daily basis," she exclaimed, "but this is one of your first milestones in a relationship. And I'm not going to let your fashion sense (or lack of) ruin that, especially when it's with one of my best friends."

Chase paused, not sure whether to be flattered his sister cared so much or insulted because of all the major digs she made about his dressing style. He didn't have any time to respond, Bree tossing clothes at him and Leo shoving him into the bathroom, tossing in a comb and a small bottle of cologne for good measure.

Short minutes later, Bree fussed around him while Leo held up a hand mirror in front of him. "Would you quit moving so much?" the brunette grumbled as she fixed Chase's shirt buttons and straightened his tie.

Bree, to put it mildly, had been disappointed by her brother's wardrobe. It never struck her how Chase seemed to wear the same type of clothes over and over-it all being so plain and predictable. Leo had apparently felt mutual, except being way more open with his feelings.

"Seriously dude," Leo rattled on. "Have you ever thought of anything other than sweater vests and high tops?"

"At least we found something remotely flattering," answered Bree, stepping back and crossing her arms. She thought her work was good: a blue plaid button down, white and blue stripped tie, black skater jeans, and grey high tops.

Bree dipped her hand in a shallow container of hair gel and ran it through Chase's hair. "That stuff smells disgusting," he complained, huffing as she wiped her hand on his hand then attacked it with a comb. Once she was positive she had it at a perfect spiky state, she stopped and gave him a look, cursing mentally that he was taller, know her glare would have been a lot more effective if he wasn't.

"Deal with it," she advised, looking him again, checking for any flaws in her work. (Leo would argue that he helped to, but all he did was hold a mirror and brush and tried to look pretty while doing so.) "If anything, the smell will wear off." Then she turned and muttered under her breath, "eventually," but knew full well that he could hear it.

"Thanks," Chase said finally, taking the mirror out of Leo's grasp and holding it up, inspecting the finished piece himself. After deciding he looked good, he thanked his siblings again before glancing at his watch and confirming if kept obsessing about being late-he was going to be late.

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

I was officially in freak-out mode. As Janelle Sammie had assured me earlier, I had no reason to be. At a secret meeting before school later that week, it had been confirmed that both Davenport and my dad had a meeting ever from 4-11 or 5-12, my dad of course getting the latter. Rachel, being ever so official, had stated our anniversary whatever-it-was-going-to-be had to be from 4:45 to 9:55, giving us plenty of time to bond and do whatever couple-y stuff we did. (I think the stress of doing all this for us and not even having a boyfriend of her own was getting to her.)

When it was finally 4:30, I told Rem good-bye, gripped Chase's present bag tightly and continued down the street to the ancient part of downtown. I recited my cover story in my head-_ I'm on my way to my friend's birthday party. It's at that fancy restraint downtown and she's really into all that science stuff._

When I was good five or six blocks away, I could finally breathe easier. I'd always been told that I suffer from extreme paranoia; my dad had left more than half an hour ago, I was in the clear…for now, anyways.

I kept my head low and avoided contact with the other people roaming the streets and stopped in front of an abandoned building with a rusty sign and vines crawling up the walls. The building itself seemed perfectly harmless, the structure being what worried me most. But I had to admit, our friends did a good job of cleaning it up.

I snuck to the back, slipping in through the back door that's for some reason always unlocked. The room-or maybe just the whole building- held an old musty smell, like the way an ancient book would smell.

"Christine?"

I jumped at the sound of Chase's voice and followed it into a spacious room that was empty of furniture. Tall bookshelves were pressed to either. Lighted candles lined the walls with a vase of flowers sitting in place on a vacant book shelf.

"Our friends are crazy," Chase put it simply, standing next a blanket in the middle of the room, gripping a picnic basket in one hand and a single red tulip in the other. He smiled at me while bowing mockingly, the tulip held out in front of him. "For you, madam."

Giggling loudly, I take it and curtsey. "Why thank you, kind sir." We face each other, looking at each other before busting out laughing and sitting down on the blanket. "You look great," I commented, reaching out and pulling slightly at his tie. "But what's with the tie?"

Chase shrugged, unpacking the food and handing me a paper plate and napkin. "Don't ask me," he said, "Bree did all the work." Then he stopped, paused, and looked at my clothes. "And you're looking as gorgeous as always."

I blushed and viewed everything he had unpacked: Watermelon, grapes, tiny sandwiches, celery sticks coated with peanut butter and raisins, a huge variety of cookies, and apple cider. "And how exactly did you sneak all this?" I questioned, eyeing the juicy watermelon.

Chase handed me a fork. "Tasha set it up with one of her friends from book club who owns a restaurant with her family," he explained. "And something about her and her husband loving our 'modern love story' helped convince her." Chase shook his head and smiled at me. "People are a little crazy nowadays."

We pile up our plates and poured our drinks, talking about all the crazy stuff going on at home. Adam kept complaining about how he didn't have a pet cow, Leo's obsessing about asking Janelle out, and Bree is trying to find a way for Davenport and my dad to make peace. Rem is starting to get into garden magazines, my dad's been burying himself in his work, growing apart from me, and Janelle won't stop bugging about how she isn't going out with Leo (but refused to make the first move).

After having the most awesome food catching competition, hogging down most the cookies and sandwiches, and laughing about how oblivious Janelle and Leo were to the others' feelings, it was getting closer to sunset and I still hadn't given Chase his present yet. And just when I was about to say something about it, Chase wiped off his hands and grabbed something from his back pocket. "I have something for you," he stated holding it in his hands.

"Good," I said, grabbing the back from where I set it aside, "because I have something you, too." After bickering about who went first and why, Chase won and held out a small velvet box.

"I really hope you like it," Chase said with a cheeky smile, handing it to me gently. I smiled and kissed his cheek, pulling back to see him blushing. I felt his eyes watching as I opened the lid and gasped. With a hand to my heart, everything played out in a perfect cliché moment as tears started falling when pulling the locket out and gawking out the beautifully captured swan.

"You like it, don't you?" rambled Chase, staring his hands. "Because if you don't I can just take it back you can pick out something else…"

I stopped him mid-rant, launching myself at him in a tackle hug, my tears dripping onto his shoulder. I clutched him with one hand while my other clung onto the locket. "Don't you dare, Chase Davenport," I protested my words sounding muffled as I buried my face in his shoulder. "This is the best thing I've ever gotten."

I felt his body relax as Chase let out a breath and hugged me back just as tightly. We stayed like that for a bit longer; pulling away with equally sappy grins and sparks in our eyes. "Does this mean I can get my present now?" Chase asked, hand holding onto my arms.

Freezing, my eyes darted back to the bag and back to Chase. My nerves started up again and I doubted what I got him would compare to what he got me. "Are you sure you still want it?" I asked weakly, fingering the shining bronze chain of my locket, refusing to meet his eyes.

Chase squeezed my arm in assurance. "I'm positive I'll love it, Chris," he whispered in my ear, kissing my cheek as he pulled away. "Now please let me see it."

I sighed and met his eyes, melting in their pools of warmth-the bag being pushed into his hands. Chase kissed my head and I held my breath as he pulled out each item one by one. "Do you hate it?" I asked, cringing in wait for his words.

"Chrissie," Chase started, "I love it." My eyes popped open in shock as it was his turn to tackle me. The stuffed dolphin I bought was smashed between our bodies as he gripped the couple of posters in his hands. Pulling away, Chase was beaming. "Where did you even find it?"

"You know the Science Toy Barn a couple streets away from the park we meet at?" I said, pointing at my hands as he nodded. "I dragged Rachel there because I knew you loved the show and the couple that owns the place was going to put the posters up in storage, but I thought that they'd be perfect for you."

Chase leaned in, pecking my lips before lingering away. "Happy month anniversary," he said happily before kissing me again. "You know me way too well.

I leaned my forehead against his, fingers playing with his hair. "And you really know how to treat a girl," I giggled, leaning in again.

* * *

><p>"That has got to be the sweetest thing I've ever heard in my entire life!" Rachel and Trina squealed, smiling at me from my computer screen.<p>

I was camping out in my closet. Even though all the rooms in the house were soundproof and the walls were ten layers thick, my room had appeared bug-free when I searched it earlier, I still didn't trust my dad and how he always knew something-more like anything-before I told him, even if I didn't want to tell him. So that was how I ended sitting behind all my hanging clothes, staring at my friend's excited faces in the dark.

"And then after that, he said that if I thought I was being spoiled now, I had to wait and see the presents when we're married," I finished. By now my face was flushed and I was feeling on top of the world.

Trina gasped while Rachel shrieked, jumping up from her desk chair and jumping up and down again and again. "Do you know what this means?" she trills, face as flushed as mine. "He wants to marry you someday! This is HUGE!"

I grinned widely, body tingling and mind numb. I had the best boyfriend in the world.

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><p><strong>I'm so sorry for the wait. And if just skipped over the AN at the beginning, please go back and read it for me. And reviews are awesome. :)**


	18. Chapter 17

**Hey people who are reading this. Some of you are saying you want Spike to be in the story. And I agree-Spike is really hot. But I'm not going to give away future chapters by saying whether he is or not in the story. You'll just have to wait and see! :D**

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

I still felt giddy and jittery all over by the next afternoon. I'd just got off the phone with Bree (under the name Briana on my phone). Rem had turned on the radio, needing something to listen to while she cleaned out the fridge. I hummed along to Payphone and flipped my Tiger Beat issue carelessly-I'd read so many times already.

"Do you know when dad's supposed to be home?" I called to Rem, eyeing a picture of Cody Simpson in my magazine, the likeness between someone I knew and he was bugging me.

Just when I heard Rem's mechanic whir coming closer, dad walked through the door with a bag in hand and some files nestled under his arm.

"Hey bud," he greeted, using one of my old nicknames.

"Hey dad," I responded. Dad might've been forbidding one of the best relationships of my life just because of some stupid rivalry-slash-bad blood between the dads…but I've never been able to stay angry with him for long. "What's that?" I asked curiously, throwing the magazine aside and staring at the paper bag he had in his hands.

Dad shrugged off his coat-I don't even _want _to _know _where he hid all that sweat from wearing a lab coat around the clock-and placed it on the kitchen table. Rem shot him a look (I'm assuming, even after all these years, it's hard to tell what kind of looks she gave whoever.) from dirtying the counter she'd just wiped off but went back to watering the hanging plants.

"I've been thinking about everything lately," dad began, pulling item after item out of the bag. I rubbed my lips together; for dad, thinking about everything can mean from me to the mass of Pluto.

"Like what kind of everything?" I asked, walking over to the counter and swinging me onto a bar stool.

Dad hid a carton behind his back like he used to do when I was a kid-a guessing game we played whenever he got me something from the store, ranging from candy bars to a late dinner.

"Didn't you say this was your favorite juice?" dad said instead, changing the subject and setting the juice carton in front of me.

My eyes widened as I read the title and saw my dad search for a glass. "You got me pineapple mango juice?" I trilled in excited. "I haven't had that in forever."

"I know," dad said vaguely. I eyed the cup he poured it in. I don't remember ever seeing a color faded cup like the one he gave me, but I also saw him pull it out of the bag as well. "How much you want?"

"Half empty," I said, shrugging off the cup for now.

Dad chuckled. "That's a sign of a pessimist," he stated.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm half pessimist, half optimist." I grabbed the cup and took a slow sip being shouting, "Thanks, dad," and walking back to the couch and continuing reading my magazine.

"What's for dinner?" dad called out to Rem. She responded with something about a type of tropical salad with a spicy Mexican dish. Dad loved the tropics, claiming some of the best years of his life happened on tropical islands during his studies, and I loved Mexican and basically any type of spicy food. Usually, Rem read up on different exotic recipes and tested them on us during lunch and dinner.

I was sometimes told that I looked Mexican, or at least from Spanish decent. Dad told me that my mom had been from Spanish decent because of her father.

"Dad," I called out, "I'm feeling tired. I think I'm going to take a nap before dinner. Shout when it's ready."

I barely heard him reply as I stumbled upstairs. I'd never been that tired after drinking the juice. Rem told me that it always made me more hyper when I was a kid. Sighing, I shrugged off my cardigan and kicked off my slippers before falling onto the soft sheets quilt, not bothering to even crawl underneath them. The fresh smell of vanilla from when Rem last washed them clung to my nose as I drifted off. My head heavy and senses drowsy.

No One's Pov

He waited.

Three minutes…

Five minutes…

Seven minutes…

He always waited seven minutes. After taking a deep breath and pushing away all the heavy guilt that camped in his gut, he silently snuck up to her room. He really shouldn't sneak-his daughter could sleep through anything.

Rem watched as he crept into Christine's room, bag in hand and files present. She sighed, the sound close to a voice whirring in a fan.

Christine slept peacefully, mind clouded and heavy as she was unaware of her father flipping her onto her stomach. His scanner beamed a brilliant flashing read, words dancing across the screen. ACTIVATED, the screen screamed at him, the bold letters blinking furiously in warning. Silently, he cursed. Fingers dancing across the small keypad, he typed in a command, the scanning process restarting.

"Nearly overloaded," he cursed, frowning in concentration. "Turn it back on later tonight."

Sighing in relief at his quick fix, he left, leaving her to finish her nap; the pills should be wearing off soon anyway.

Quietly closing her bedroom door, Rem greeted him with a hard stare. "She'll have to eventually," she scolded, her humming growing insistent. "You can't keep her as your secret experiment forever. She's a teenage girl-don't you think she has enough problems already?"

Alan sighed; his face sagging and eyes hardening, aging quickly. "I know," he said in defeat with his shoulders tensing. "But right now isn't the best time. She's already mad about me and whoever."

"Because you don't see it," Rem hissed quietly in exasperation. "That boy is the first one who didn't break her heart. You need to let go of the past and focus on what's right for Christine-_your daughter."_

Rem whirred away, leaving Alan alone in the hall to sigh.

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"Do you ever get that really weird feeling when you're asleep?" I asked Rachel's image on my laptop. "Like when you're kind of asleep and kind of not and everything's happening that you know would never happen when you're awake?"

Rachel's forehead creased as she thought, tapping her nails against her desk. "Not really," she shrugged, "I don't really focus on my dreams that much."

I sighed and leaned back on the wall next to my bed. My nap had been troubling me since dinner. I heard voices; Dad and Rem talking about someone….someone like me.

"Maybe I'm thinking about this too much," I decided finally, letting my thoughts slow and quit their steadfast churning in my head. "It's probably nothing."

"Well you could have said that before you wasted fifteen minutes of my time!" Rachel cried out. "I thought this was serious since you always call me. _The Bachelor_ is on and I'm sacrificing my seeing it for you!"

I poked my tongue out at her. "We both know you have the whole series recorded on your box in your room for when you don't want to study," I pointed out. "So technically, you aren't missing anything."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You know, sometimes your know-it-all moments really bug me."

"But you love me anyway."

"Whatever."

We said good-bye and promised to talk tomorrow at school. I shut my laptop closed and leaned me head and sighed. The whole nap thing was really bugging me. Finally, I crawled underneath the sheets, staring up at the ceiling before drifting into a fitful sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the shortness. But I needed to do something to keep you interested and this is what we came up with. Review and tell us thoughts. Stay tuned for the next chapter! :)<strong>


	19. Chapter 18

**Hey again. I just came out with a Lab Rats five-shot called Speechless, so please check it out.**

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"Okay guys, this could be one of your biggest missions yet." Davenport paced back and forth in front of us.

Adam touched the bag with his foot. "The last time you said that we nearly died," he pointed out bluntly.

Davenport stopped and gave him a look. "I know about that, Adam," he said grimly. "No need to remind me."

Bree rolled her eyes at him, looking annoyed. "And telling us what exactly we're supposed to do would be great," she suggested sarcastically, waiting for him to explain.

And I had to admit, not knowing made me antsy. Not knowing certain things in general made me a little anxious, and missions were just one of them.

"It's simple," Davenport said easily. "The security system in the laboratories in a town over busted, leaving all the chemicals open for taking. So all you have to do is reset the alarms and analyze the time codes to find out what cause the problems and copy them down for me too look over."

"I all I got out of that was 'alarms'," Adam shrugged, hoisting the bag over his shoulder and clutching onto Bree already. She sighed, elbowing him to loosening up his rough grip.

He didn't seem to get the message. "You know, even though you hold onto me tightly, it doesn't mean I can't push you off," she huffed and knocking him over. I laughed, Leo pointing from his chair and laughing as Adam grumbled and stood up.

Davenport sighed, turning away from him and focusing on me. "Do you have the locations and instructions?"

I frowned. Of course I did. "Yeah," I said emotionlessly.

He just turned away from us, shooing us out. Adam and Bree gave a decent retreat, while I just grumbled and hurried along.

Bree stopped me for a second, letting Adam pass us. "You'll have to forgive eventually," she chided, crossing her arms and gesturing for me to grab on. "Staying mad at him forever will help nothing."

I snorted, latching onto her shoulders and hopping onto her back. "Don't you think I know that?" I complied when Adam came around the corner. "And he needs to let go of the past and move on."

Bree just sighed and started speeding off once Adam had grabbed ahold of her, heading toward the next town over.

Riding during super speed can blow your breath away. Everything blurs by in a weird hallucinating blast and it's hard to breath. When we stopped, I hopped over, feeling slightly dizzy. When my vision cleared, I saw that Bree was already snatching the duffle bag from Adam and searching through its contents.

"You know how all this stuff connects, right?" She said, looking up at me before staring back at the tall, historic looking factory.

I huffed, taking two devices from her hands. "I wouldn't be a super genius if I didn't."

Adam cocked his head. "It all looks like metal with wires to me."

Rolling my eyes and sharing a look with Bree, I pointed to the buildings. "Bree, I need you to check the perimeter and disconnect all outside security cameras and settings while Adam and I go inside the laboratory and find the chemicals and get the codes. Meet in the chemical laboratory when you're done. Got it?"

Bree and Adam nodded. "Got it."

She raced off; probably already halfway done by the time we reached the back entrance. I was actually kind of creepy being in the abandon building, vacant of a decent light source.

"Which way are we even supposed to go?" Adam whined.

I heaved a heavy sigh. "The direction we're going in is the right way," I explained slowly. "Just wait for when it's you're part."

We reached the chemical laboratory, after me pointing out that it was the right lab by showing Adam the sign that said so.

"This place stinks!" complained Adam for the umpteenth time. I honestly didn't think the room was all that bad-just the lingering smell of fried electronics and something distinctly like bleach. Behind me whirs and someone came to a halt.

"That's an unusual smell," Bree stated, walking closer and fingering test tubes. Of course they would think so; they think nothing could smell worse.

"Adam, you need to rip out the destroyed system right there," I commanded, pointing to the fried box sticking out awkwardly on the wall.

Adam scoffed. "Manners would be nice," he snorted, but moved and ripped out the device anyway.

Pushing him out of the way, I carefully moved certain metal plates to place the new ones in before attaching more wires to it.

"I found the computer and files," Bree called from somewhere further back in the room, near a bunch of microscopes and filing cabinets.

"Good!" I responded. "Now see if you can crack the computer's password and get the files from A56 to FR49 so we can take them back to the lab."

"We're already in a lab," Adam joked, sounding very dumb. I just shook my head and closed the box panel, the lights flickering, cameras and sprinklers on the ceiling humming to life.

"Got 'em," Bree reported cheerily, waving a dozen of thick manila folders in her hands. I just nodded and gestured to the door.

"Now we have to get out of here." Quickly stuffing the fried wires and codes into the duffle bag and quickly getting out of the building.

* * *

><p>Rachel's Pov<p>

"So what are you doing today?" I asked Christine, flipping absentmindedly through an issue of _Bop _and glancing at her.

Christine looked up from her phone. "Callan and I are meeting at the bookstore to talk about the next secret meeting at the park for me and Chase."

I pursed my lips, tossing the magazine aside. "Wouldn't Chase get jealous? I mean, Callan is the perfect definition of jock and not to mention the fact girls drool over him twenty-four seven."

She rolled her eyes and hit my shoulder. "Chase isn't the type to get jealous," she sighed, glancing back at her phone. "And apparently, not the type to answer his phone either."

"Bree told me they were having a family day," I shrugged, "something about not having enough family time or whatever."

Christine just flipped her phone back open, sighing again. "I'm going to be late if we keep this up, I'll be late for the meeting."

"Just lay off the flirting," I teased, poking my tongue out and booting out my computer.

Christine rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Love ya, girlie."

"Love ya too!" I shouted to her as she closed my bedroom door, leaving for whatever-its-called thing with Callan.

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"So, do you have any ideas?" I asked him, carefully checking out a magazine I snagged from the entrance before I met him at the chairs in the connected café.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Callan raised an eyebrow and looking at me.

I shrugged. "I think we should find a way so we can meet in town but somewhere no one ever goes."

Callan snapped his fingers, beaming at me. "There's this old antique shop at the edge of town that my uncle owns, it closes a couple hours after school closes." He smirked deviously. "We could say that you and Rachel want to go shopping for the upcoming dance while Chase and I say we have to work on a project together for English."

I widened my eyes, slapping the glossy cover onto the coffee table in front me, earning some annoyed looks. "That's a great idea!" I squealed, yanking him close and giving him a huge hug. This hug was different from the ones Chase gave me; there were no butterflies erupting into dance numbers in my stomach.

We pulled away, grabbing our bags and putting some money on the table for our drinks we never touched. "See you at school tomorrow," Callan said with a small smile before walking away. I stopped on my way out, my phone beeping.

_Sorry 4 not answering. Had some stuff 2 do._

I smiled brightly, my heart thumping. How could just on simple text from him do this to me?

Because I think I'm in love with him.

Rubbing my lips together and drumming my fingers against my thigh, I walked home, sunglasses perched on my head; keep an eye out for spies. It had become a fun little game for me to play whenever I was out and Chase had thought of the same thing. So far I had caught four and he seven.

Together that's eleven. Each of our dads had numerous spies keeping track of our every moment when we weren't with them.

Who knew how many they had stalking us when you put them together. Who knew who they had doing their dirty work for them.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so sorry for the shortness but I think this is way better than the last chapter. What do you think Chase would feel about the whole Callan and Christine meeting? How do you want him to feel?<strong>

**Please review and tell us what you think will happen in the next chapter. **

**And like I said at the top, please check out my new story Speechless. Thank you! :)**


	20. Chapter 19

**Hey guys. Since this is chapter 20 (technically, if you count the prolouge as a chapter), we wanted to go a little big because the twentieth chapter is sort of big for this story. It shows how long his sotry and going, so we want to add some of the stuff you guys have been asking for.**

**I try my best to respond to the readers and reviewer who think their is something I'm missing or have ideas they want to give me. I got this one from a 'Guest' and this how I'm responding to it:**

**So one reviewer said that they should use their bionics in a chapter. That kind of why I had the mission part of the last chapter. Christine doesn't know about their powers and neither do the rest of their friends. So it would throw the plot completely off course if they just blurted out they were bionic to everyone. This story goes at it's own pace and they do still have their bionics, but I'm not going to just have them use their powers in every other chapter because this is really just about Christine and Chase, and how their friends are helping them with their secret romance.**

**I hope that cleared things up for everyone who was a little confused. :)**

* * *

><p>No One's Pov<p>

"I don't see why they're so upset about this!" Donald cried in exasperation, tossing his hands up in the air while standing in the kitchen as Tasha came into the room.

She shook her head in disbelief. "They're teenagers in love, Donald," she tsked. "Not controlled robots."

"I don't think of them like that," he protested, the fight in his voice fading inch by inch. "But that girl can't be trusted!"

Tasha sighed and grabbed a pot and pan, set on perparing dinner. "Christine is harmless." The woman made sure to put great emphisas on the girl's name. "You even said so yourself that she had to one of the sweetest girls in the high school."

Donald crossed his arms, refusing to admit she was right. "Her dad isn't!" he hollered childishly. "We're talking about the daughter to my biggest enemy here! His evil is coursing through her DNA—infesting her brain cells."

Tasha raised an eyebrow. "And stupidity courses through yours," she mocked, twisting various knobs on the stove. "You may be the world's greatest genius and create a million new eletronics for the world a day, but you know absolutely nothing about teenage love."

"Not true," he protested again, feeling offended. "And it's not like anyone needs 'teen love' anyway. I've raised three perfectly fine kids without it."

"But don't you think they would've been better with it?" Tasha asked finally. "I mean, think about how clueless they are to practically everything involving a teenager's normal day. These guys go on missions and are pressured with saving the world; having a girlfriend or boyfriend would be _great _for them."

Donald's posture sagged, leaving his facial feature weary, like he'd age a couple years in a short matter of seconds. "I never said they couldn't date," he pointed out bitterly. "They just can't date the blood of my arch rivals."

Tasha gave him a hard stare. "Tell me," she said finally. "Do you really—and I mean honest to God truth, Donald—think that innocent, sweet girl is up to anything? Even if you and her father have been battling for so many years?"

He stubbornly looked away, avoiding eye contact. "I don't want them seeing each other," his disagreed firmly. "And that is final."

His wife sighed in defeat, her expression morphing into one of disappointment. "Fine," she sighed. "What you say."

Then Donald sulked off to the lab, set on blissfully ignoring the gnawing guilt carving into his chest. Working made it easy to push feelings to the side; he'd take logic over emotions any day.

Chase watched Donald leave the kitchen quietly, counting five heartbeats until he decided it was same to come out of his hiding spot.

"I know you're there," Tasha called out to him, focused on breaking the noodles and pouring them into the pot.

"How'd you know I was there?" Chase asked sheepishly, going over his plan positive he couldn't have gotten caught.

Tasha pointed to his corner with her free hand. "Saw your shadow," she responded, sliding the sauce jar near him. "Punishment: your helping with dinner." She laughed at her form of a punishment, know Chase really didn't care whether or not he was involved with cooking dinner.

"Fine," Chase shrugged, shaking a thick river of dark red sauce into the pan. "And you have to give me more advice."

Tasha turned and raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Is it wrong if I don't trust my girlfriend?"

She paused, unsure of what to say. "It's not a good thing when it comes to relationships," Tasha said slowly, "If that's what you meant."

Chase groaned, tossing his back and stirring absentmindedly. "I trust her, I just don't trust the pretty boy she hangs out with."

Tasha laughed at his confession. "Ah, the case of the Little Green Monster."

He shook his head in disagreement. "I'm not jealous," he exclaimed stubbornly. "...That much..."

She shook her head and gestured to the pack of meat as she talked. "Every teenager in a relationship go through this. There are going to be guys giveing Chrisitne's some looks; she's not bad looking."

Chas snorted, staring down at the bubbling sauce in frustration. "I know that," he grumbled, stirring it and getting slightly out of hand. Then he looked up, face morphed into an expression of annoyance. "Why can't Davenport see I'm happy with Christine? For world famous scientists—they're both acting like giant idiots."

Tasha sighed, leaving her station in front of the noodles to set the table. "Part of being a scientist is sticking to their claim, and their claim is that they are both horrible people," she suggesed thoughtfully. "Don't worry, they'll have to ome around eventually."

Chase didn't let up with his expression. "Yeah, right."

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"Oh my God," Rachel said in awe, her jaw dropped to the floor as she stared down at the picture in my hand. "They look exactly alike—it's freaky."

I huffed. "They look nothing alike!" I disagreed in vain, knowing that the resemblence between Chase and the picture in my hand was very freaky.

Last night I'd been searching through a box I'd forgotten to unpack and foudn that it was a bunch of old pictures of my old friends and me in Austrailia. Billions of picture were in my room of my friends and me now (not to mention the dozens of pictures Chase and I snuck in on our secret dates tucked safely under my matress) that I'd shoved the Austrailia ones in the box to the box of closet to hibernate. And when I was showing it to Rachel at school today, she started freaking out how it looked exactly like Chase. (I'm not saying she's wrong, but I wasn't going to tell her she's right either.)

Rachel rolled her eyes and snatched the picture from my hands and held it closer to her face. "No wonder you're dating Chase," she laughed. "He's an exact replica of your ex."

I made a face at her. "Are you kidding? They're nothing alike."

"Oh really?" Rachel challenged, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. "What could possibly be different between the two?"

"For one thing," I started, "Neville is Austrailian. Another is that he's an acting prodigy."

She snapped her fingers, turning to me with wide eyes. "So that's where I've seen him! Isn't he on the host on that show Tasmanian Neville? On the Discovery Channel?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes, casting them down to the picture. "Oh please—that dude is afraid of any huge animal with sharp teeth and could make a boomerang to save his life. Oddly enough, my cousin can and she is two years younger than him!"

Just as Rachel was about to respond, Bree and Janelle came up to us with a cheerful, "Hey guys."

"Look at this picture," Rachel demanded as she shoved it in their faces. "Doesn't Chrisitne's boyfriend from Austrailia look like Chase's long lost twin?"

Bree gasped. Janelle grabbed the picture as the two gawked at it. "Dear God," she exclaimed way too dramatically. I loved my friends to death, but sometimes, like this moment, they took things too seriously. "They look exactly alike."

"Except for the fact Chase has never owned a get-up like that in his life," Bree added, critcally eyeing Neville's outdoor survival get-up he'd bee wearing when I took that picture of him.

"Wait—when were you in Austrailia?" Janelle flipped the picture over, scanning closely for a date. "Before you moved to our fair city?"

The rest of us gave her a look. "Did you just say 'fair city'?" Bree laughed.

Janelle shrugged. "Yeah...don't judge."

We raised our hands in defense. "Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Now, do you want to hear the story or not." At their eager head nods and furious gestures for me to get on with it, I just sighed. "Nothing to tell. Dad had shipped us from Flordia to Austrailia for a brief animal project and we stayed for a couple months. I made some friends and got a boyfriend—" I pointed to the picture Bree was now holding—"and Neville let his show go that big head of his. So we broke up before dad moved us here."

Rachel looked at me. "You do know that you just implied your boyfriend has a huge head, right?"

I glared playfully and bumped her off the bench.

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

I was bored out of my mind. Despite the fact Janelle, Rachel, and Sammie (or Sam as us guys called her) came over and we've all been having a horror movie marathon, I wanted something more fun to do. "Rach," I hissed, tapping her shoulder.

"Whaa?" she responded, her mouth full of popcorn.

"Is her dad home?"

"Noh. Wom'b be few tee houws."

"Good. Leaving now."

I jumped off the couch and left, happy that Davenport had decided to take Tasha out to beg for forgiveness or something like that.

Two dogs barked at me twice on the way there, one nearly succedding in jumping the fence to get. (I think I had all rights to be afraid of a pitbull baring it's teeth at me.) And one very rebellious squirrel thought it would've been hilarious to throw a couple acorns at me as I passed his tree.

Suffice to say, I wasn't at my best when I arrived at Chrisitne's house.

My irritated mood wasn't lifted when I heard a loud thump of numerous things falling soon followed by happy laughter. My curiosity peeking, I open the door, happy it was unlocked.

Oh my God.

Christine looked up at me with wide eyes—like a kid who got caught writing on the walls and knew the punishment was going to be severe.

"This is _soooo _a misunderstanding!" she squeaked awkwardly, standing from crawling offf _Callan's _chest. He stared up at me to, torn between defending himself or Christine first. "Callan and have an assignment due and—we were—busy with...—Lois and Clarke!"

I stared at her, unsure of what to even think. She was telling the truth, that I knew for sure. Christine may squeak under pressure, but when's she caught lying, her voice raised five octaves higher than normal.

"Nothing happened," Callan insisted, standing himself. He pointed to the open textbooks and loose papers scattered messily on the coffee table, couch, and floor. Nice to know they were actually _working _rather than making out.

"Whatever," I muttered finally, briskly turning to the door. "I'll see you later."

* * *

><p><strong>So, I left you with a cliffie. Kind of. I hoped that filled your wishes of some jealousy and anger issues. Did you see how I added Billy Unger's part from an A.N.T Farm episode? I was in a Unger mood, so we added it in because we love him.<strong>

**And before I forget, please check out my stories on Wattpad, because I haven't been getting many comments. (None really.) My author name is SilentWriter4Ever.**

**Review, my lovelies and keep an eye for the next chapter! :)**


	21. Chapter 20

**Some chapters to this story may be a few days late because I'll be focusing on some different projects I haven't finished, and be on the look for this story's sequel Long Live coming early October, late September.**

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><p>No One's Pov<p>

"You're being ridiculous." Rem stared at Allan as he sat at his desk, head in his hands.

"I'm doing what's best for my daughter," he argued, writing down notes furiously. "And she seems perfectly fine with this whole arrangement, so why are when still discussing it."

The arguments and disagreements have increased with each day. Back and forth, one claim after another from both sides. The bickering goes nowhere, the angry conversations dropping until another picked it up from it left off. Each said got nowhere, but both too strong-headed to drop it until the other agreed with their reasonings.

"You wouldn't," Rem huffed, her gears whirring faster and faster as she hummed in anger. Allan was regretting programming her with humane acts and emotions, forgetting she would have moments like this. "You've been throwing yourself into your work so much that you can't even see their in love with each other."

"She can find somebody else perfectly fine to fall in love with," Allan groaned. "Just not..._him._"

Rem whirred closer, a hard edge in her voice as it mechanically sneered. "You're two grown men living the past. Both of you are rich and famous for the thing you're best at and still fighting over a stupid award that happened years ago. There are school kids more mature that you two."

Allan slammed his pen down, the loud contact bouncing off the walls. "He took what should have been mine and knew it!" he shouted. "Didn't even have the guts to admit when we both knew I was right." His face hardened. "And how do I know that he didn't teach that kid the same thing when it came to dealing with humans—a girl, no less."

"You and I know perfectly well that innocent boy wouldn't even dare try to do such a thing. It's you and that other man who breaking them apart." Rem tightened her fists, the metal clanking. "And as the step in mother we both know you designed me to be, I'm not just going to sit back and watch you do all these things to her." Her voice dropped low, even though they were the only ones in the room. "And she's going to find out about the experiments sooner or later, and it's going to be the Maria incident all over again."

His white fists pounded against the sleek desk surface. Rem didn't even flinch as he muttered a long string of cuss words as he chair thumped to the floor, falling as he angrily stood. His hard green eyes burned with a dancing fire as they looked at their opposite, neither wavering.

"Why do you always bring her up?" His words rattled against the walls, bouncing over each other. "She's gone! _She left us_. You're the one living in the past."

Rem sparked slightly, her insides churning into a messy tangle of wires. "Maria's why you're doing this—you're the reason why she left Christine. All because you let science take over everything you two had. Do you know how much you scarred that little girl when you two were fighting that night? And I think that whole apartment in Brooklyn could hear you."

Allan sagged, the fight leaving him. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he protested feebly.

Rem whirred away, knowing the fight ate away at his insides and the work was done.

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"Are you sure you're not mad?" Christine asked _again. _I sighed, grabbing her hand and smiling at her. It was two days since the walk in and Christine had been apologizing fifty times each day in under an hour. Even though I loved that she was concerned on how I felt about it, she was driving me nuts.

"Yes," I assured, "I'm absolutely positive I'm not mad. Can we please just drop it?"

Christine looked like she wanted to say more, but stopped for my sake.

The closet seemed darker today, the usual lightbulb on the ceiling dimming with each day it's on. The rusty chain connecting frail string on it swung back and forth as Christine knocked it back and forth. "This is so boring," she pouted, holding the chain steady before moving her fingers away and cringing in disgust at the trail of dirt it left on her finger tips.

"Do you have any other ideas?" I tilted my head toward the door, the two jocks on guard to scare off anyone from opening the door. "It's not like we can do this outside."

I leaned forward, knowing she was going to question what _this _was. She smiled against my lips, her finger knotting in my hair and pulling me closer to her. We stumbled, her back meeting the shelves behind her as I snuck my arms around her waist.

We were doing just fine until one of the jocks kicked the door in warning and hissed, "Alert."

Christine tensed in my arms, pulling on my hair in anticipation. She only relaxed and let go when we heard a familiar voice say, "Let me in meatheads—my brother is swallowing his girl's face in there."

I felt heat creep up my neck and settle on my face as Bree opened the door, waving what looked like a picture in hand and tossing it in my face excitedly. "As much as I _absolutely hate _breaking up your kissing session, but Chase, you have to see this picture!"

Taking the picture from Bree, I examined it closely. At first wondered why she was showing me a picture of myself. Then I realized...it _wasn't _me. It was someone else, by the looks of it on set of a TV show of some sort, grinning vainly at the camera and showing off his survivor get-up.

I whistled jokingly. "That's one handsome dude."

Bree just rolled her eyes and swiped the picture. "I know what you just implied; you are full of yourself. Do you have any shame—even a little?"

"Not really."

Christine groaned. "Do you really have to show everyone that picture?" She crossed her arms and gave Bree a hard stare. "Why not just publish it in the newspapers for Christ sake?"

Bree grinned wickedly. "I'll do you one better—I'll publish it in the school newspaper." Turning and giving us both a wink, she bolted out the door, picture in hand.

"Get back here!" Christine commanded as she ran off after her, leaving me completely confused. Watching as Christine tripped after Bree in an angry tirade to get the picture back before it was exposed to anyone else.

What just happened?

* * *

><p>No One's Pov<p>

"I can't believe you actually thought I was going to do that!" Bree cackled as she got ready to leave school.

Christine frowned and kicked at the ground, thinking a long string of cuss words she couldn't say even if no one else was around.. "I never know with you." She reached over and punched the brunette's shoulder. "By the way—you suck."

Bree winked and smirked at her friend. "Thanks, that's the kind of compliments I look forward to getting everyday."

Rolling her eyes, she leaned against the locker next to her friend's, eyeing the halls suspiciously. She really shouldn't be; Bree and Christine hung out in the open with plenty of spies around (at least, that's what she thought, anyway) and wasn't tattle on before

Shaking that thought away, Christine noticed a bunch of picture taped and plastered to Bree's lockers, covering everything. Raising an eyebrow in amusement at the tall, handsome guy with dark hair and kind eyes.

"Don't you think Ethan will be a little jealous of your little obsession?"Christine teased, pointing out one of the many posters.

Bree rolled her eyes. "Leave it alone." She stared dreamily at the posters on her locker door with a sigh to match her look. "Bye, Hunter."

Christine shook her head and let out a laugh waving goodbye and heading out the door. Her dad was at a late conference meeting until late tonight and Davenport was home, so she couldn't get a ride from her father or Chase. And Rem wasn't _legally _allowed behind a wheel, much less to have a driver's licence. So Christine was stuck with walking for now.

Throwing her hood up, she jogged, feeling raindrops hit her arms as she held her bag close to her body. Gritting her teeth, she pushed through the cold as she stopped completely a block away and sprinted.

Huffing and panting, Christine busted into the house and collapsed on to the couch, face first, in exhaustion.

"A little heads up about rain would've been nice," She grumbled at Rem.

The whirring got louder as she came closer. "I didn't watch the news this morning. And they usually get it wrong anyway, so what's the point in watching?"

"Whatever." Christine shrugged off her soaked hoodie and attempted to wring out her hair. "I'm gonna go check my Skype."

Trudging up stairs, she striped out of her shirt and check to her tank top: Dry. Christine traded her soggy jeans and squishy socks for comfy sweats and fuzzy socks. Her hair up in a messy bun, she clicked away at her computer, biting her cheek as she clicked his screen name.

"Hey you," Hunter smiled at her from her laptop, still as happy as ever. "How goes it?"

Christine rolled her eyes. "It goes good."

With squinted eyes, she looked off behind him, the wall familiar. "Where are you."

Hunter just smiled in a way that was all too similar to the one he wore everyday. "Open the door."

Christine hopped of the bed and swung the door open, eyes widening with she saw who towered over her. "No way!" She jumped up, wrapping her legs around Hunter's waist and laughing as he swung her around. "I thought you were on tour."

"We're taking a break in California for a while, giving the bus a break. Plus I think I've pretty much got on the ast nerve of my manager."

Christine threw her head back, letting out a loud laugh. She slid off him, dragging the boy into her room by his wrist, shutting the door after practically shoving him toward her bed.

"Nice sweats," Hunter teased, pointing to the two fading H's he had drawn on there with sharpie a couple of years ago.

Rolling her eyes, Christine punched his shoulder, logging off of Skype and shutting her laptop. "I have news," she announced excitedly, pushing him over and hugging a pillow. "Bree's obsessed with you."

Hunter raised his eyebrows. "You mean your boyfriend's sister is in love with my awesome good looks?" He flicked his hair.

"Whatever." Christine stuck out her tongue. "But she has a bunch of pictures of you in her locker and on one of her binders—at least thirty of them!"

Hunter laughed. "Doesn't every girl?" At Christine annoyed look, he shrugged in defense. "I can't help it when they go into fan girl mode; that's completely up to them whether they want to fall for my good looks or not."

Christine just shook her head, used to his cockiness Hunter thought he could have twenty-four seven. With a smile, she laughed, "You and Chase are too obsessed with your looks. It's getting pretty irritating with all the vain attitude I have to put up with."

Hunter's face hardened slight, his eyes still holding his joking expression as he warned, "If he gets out of line and you happen to tell me, he'll mysterious lose all his teeth and maybe a limb."

The brunette copied his face. "And if I find out you even touch a hair on his head, your fans will be wondering why you suddenly have no arms and eyes swollen shut."

The two laughed, rolling over each other. And nearly falling off the bed clutching their stomach until their giddy fest was interrupted by someone barging into the room. "Rem let me in..."

Bree's sentence faltered as she caught Hunter—_the freaking Hunter Hayes!—_from his spot next to Christine. Letting out a mangled gasp, she shook her wet hair and grabbed her friend's leg, dragging her into the hallway and shutting the door.

"What the fricking heck was that?" Bree hissed, gesturing frantically to the door.

Christine just shrugged and sat against the wall. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I knew _some _celebrities from my dad being famous? Plus, our parents went to college together; practically family."

Bree tightened her lips. "Do you think he's freaked out by the way I acted in front of him?" she asked self-consciously, her mission at hand lost.

Christine glanced back at her bedroom door. "Come girls tackle him," she exclaimed out loud, blowing out noisily through her teeth. "Your one of the ones with self-control."

Bree bit her tongue, giving her head a quick shake. "You're meeting at the little library in town. Rachel's mom pulled some strings with the owner and you guys can meet there in an hour. So get dressed."

Turning on her heel, she made to the stairs. Only turning back to eyeball the bedroom door. "And tell Hunter I said bye."

* * *

><p>"So did Bree completely blow it? Embarrass herself more than she already does?"<p>

Christine drank from her hot chocolate, pulling it away from her mouth and giving Chase a mocking look. "Oh please, like Hunter hasn't dealt with worse. At least she didn't tackle and threaten him like this one girl; she was a nightmare."

Laughing, Chase gave a quick glance around the room, sipping his drink carefully. "The library is kind of creepy when it's all vacant and stuff."

"Don't worry," Christine teased, "I'll hold you hand so you won't get scared." Just like she said, she grabbed the hand the was resting around her waist. "Better?"

Chase leaned down, lips just barely touching hers. "Much better?"

Both smiling, they leaned in, steam rising from their cup as they kiss, tonuges battling and fingers pulling on hair as they both craved for it too be deeper.

Sudden hard taps and a frantic attempt at getting the locked door open, the coupld pulled away with shocked screams leaving the bot of them.

"Oh, God," Chase said in horror, Chrisitne perfectly mimicking his expression, feeling woozy all the while.

Mr. Davenport and her father glaring hard at both of them sent chills up her spine.

* * *

><p><strong>Cliffie! Haha, anyway, how do you think their dads are going to react? And who do you think will guess star in the next chapter?<strong>

**Review and tell us your thoughts. :)**


	22. Chapter 21

**Hey guys. We'd just thought that the word should get out about this story being under forty chapters long. But we have a lot of stuff planned out, so all the chapter will have to pretty longer than the others, starting with this one. And I figured I should start the disclaimer ordeal before someone bites my head off because of me not doing it.**

**Disclaimer: Yak, yak, yak I don't own Lab Rats or anything else that you may recognize.**

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

Dad hadn't acted as bad as I had first expected upon him ever finding out about the secret. At first a pulsing blue vein throbbed out off his forehead, contrasting with his crimson face. I think it was a shock to everyone when he started to do frantic pointing followed by incoherent sentences leading off to nothing. But getting his anger across perfectly.

Davenport wasn't any better, but at least he was breathing properly and didn't look like a huge red balloon.

"We can explain!" I tried desperately, jumping from my seat with Chase after the suite.

"Please do," Davenport huffed, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. "Please explain why the two of you went against our orders of staying away from each other—and why you'd even meet in a place like this!"

I rolled my eyes. The old library—besides some major dust issues and some old spiders webs—wasn't that bad. But to two billionaire scientists who could buy anything they'd want, it may seem like a bit of a lower standard.

"This is one of places where you two idiots don't go," Chase snapped back, glaring fiercely. His behavior was surprising to me as well as dad and Davenport. "Did you really think we were going to listen to your opinion anyway?"

I nodded in agreement—fair question.

Dad huffed. "Christine Annabel Grant, we are leaving," he ordered, yanking on my arm to pull me toward the door.

I felt my body twitch as I pulled against his strength, digging my shoes into the floor. "No! Enough is enough—I've had with you two telling us who we can and can't love. Just because of some stupid thing that happened when you two were in college, it doesn't mean it has to effect Chase and I's future."

My face was a thousand shades darker and I breathed in heavily, staring them down—daring them to fight back. I'd never felt that way before, so power and in control over what I do. I never needed to. "Both sides are going to meet in the park tonight and settle whatever this is. Because I want nothing to do with it."

Turning on my heel, I walked out the door the bell chiming behind me as I stomped over to my dad's car. He followed out a minute or so later with me sitting in the front seat still fuming and having that same odd feeling I wasn't to. Dad started up the engine; the rumbling noise way better than the conversation I knew was coming.

"I don't get why you would go behind me like that," Dad heaved a sigh, doing that weird thing that makes him look years old than he actually is.

"I beg to differ," I grumbled in disagreement, staring straight ahead to avoid looking at him. I was still charged with anger. A small voice was fighting against the high, the smart voice egging me on to the point that my father had something to with my actions. Whether I knew about it or not.

Crossing my arms, I turned my glare from the windshield to the window. "I won't on your radar forever, dad. Someday you're going have to let go, let me off my leash."

"That's what you're mother said when she left." Dad looked off distantly.

I sighed, settling into my seat more and ducking my head. No use in talking to him anymore, he was off somewhere far away from me.

* * *

><p>The four hours before the family feud were <em>just fantastic. <em>Everybody was mad. Dad was mad; Rem was mad; I was _steaming_. And if that wasn't bad enough, Rem and dad had some screaming match about who-knows-what. Probably about me, my name being tossed in with their hollering every once in a while.

The ride to the park wasn't exactly mood changing either. Dad gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. I sighed and continued staring out the windshield. Wishing for that powerful surge of control to flow through my veins again and help me get through the horrible meet it will be.

All the Davenports were already out of their car and near a messy circle of trees by the time we pulled up. Neither one of us spoke to one another as we joined them awkwardly.

It was a weird combination of nerves, anger, frustration, and exhaustion as we all stand, the adults lined up crookedly on one side with us kids on the other.

"This has to stop!" Tasha said finally, cracking the barrier of silence no one had dared to cross. "You two are acting stupid and immature over a stupid little award that was given decades ago! And how do you suppose that even concerns that they love each other."

Funny, not even two hours ago I heard Rem say the same thing.

"This is getting pretty ridiculous," Bree agreed, stepping up much to Davenport's surprise.

"You? All of you?" He swept an accusing hand across the rest of them, all nodding to confirm his suspicions.

Bree and Tasha took step toward me. "Can't you see how this is effecting Christine?" They tried desperately.

"Her eyes are always flashing," my dad muttered, forgetting he's surrounded by other people.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling that twitching sensation coming back again. "What do you mean my eyes are always flashing? What did you do to me?" I jabbed a finger into his chest, just inches away from him, but his miles away. "What is wrong with me?"

I felt close to hysterics, feeling caged and kept away from myself. A new feeling coursed through my veins, pulsing and wavering flickering me on and off like a light switch.

Dad tried to ignore me, looking everywhere else except for at me. "You're more advanced than others. More smart and mature than most you're age with an unsteady emotional waves. I've tried to fix it for years...your eyes flickering for days on and off..."

Everyone gasped, whipping their attention to me (including Davenport) to pay attention my eyes as their colors change like I'm a light show waiting to happen. But I know I can't see it—I'm not meant to. My dad is sneaking like that; he's where I get it from.

"I'm _unstable?" _I growled, lunging, hands stretched out before like claws as I tried to get at him. Something tugged me backward, lifting me off the ground with ease and swinging me and away from my father effortlessly. Shocked I looked up to see Adam returning his arms to his side.

"Chill, would you?" he retorted. "It's not like you're the only weird one."

Bree stopped gawking at me to scowl at her older brother. "Adam!" she hissed, even I feeling the pain as the pain as she dug her fingernails into the skin on his arms, tanking him back to her side.

"You made them bionic too?" Dad asked, surprised. He's always surprised when someone came up with an idea even _remotely close _to one of his own.

"Of course," Davenport scoffed, finding the idea of him not doing so absolutely unmentionable to him. "You knew my plans of doing so. Why did you make her bionic? Last I knew, you were head over heels for some theatre girl."

Wrong thing to say.

Referring to my mom as _theatre girl _was the worst thing you would've done to my dad at that moment. It helped slow my rush of anger and frustration, spiraling steams of it clinging and mingling, morphing into a feeling a tone lighter than depression.

"She left a while ago..." I trailed off, my voice leaving as I awkwardly cleared my throat in tension.

The subject dropped, still clinging to everyone with a new fresh tense aura around everyone.

"We need to fix this," Bree stated the obvious. "So I am going to do probably the worst thing ever: Lock you two in a room together."

I choked on my laughter with my hands supporting my torso as they gripped my knees. Even Chase and Adam were chuckling, Tasha rolling her eyes as she muttered, "Let's see who will kill each other first" under her breath although everybody could hear it.

Chase walked up to me, bravely sliding his arm around my waist. "Do you know what this means?" he whispered excitedly into my ear, his excitement boosting my mood. "We can finally stopped hiding." His voice dropped an octave lower, making me struggle to hear even with his lips practically on my ear. "Because honestly, I'm tired of feeling like a gay guy still in the closet from his parents."

I couldn't help it—I laughed loudly, spinning in his arms to get on my tip toes and peck his lips and smile as he spun me.

"And that is exactly why they should stay together," Tasha exclaimed, gesturing her arms to us as we pulled away, still chuckling.

Turning we noticed that dads were still horrified into silence of the idea of being locked in a room..._together._

This would be fun.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you actually did it," I told Bree, stunned.<p>

She winked. "Which part—using my super speed with them or going through with the plan?"

"Both."

It was two days later on a bitterly rainy afternoon and I still was getting use to the fact that my boyfriend and his siblings (not really siblings, but raised together all the same) had bionic abilities way better than the ones my dad had unknowingly given me.

There wasn't much of a shock when discovering the _superior intellect_ of Chase (his words, not mine) and the brute strength Adam had because of their looks. What really took me by surprise was the fact that Bree bought me an Eiffel Tower chocolate model in Paris yesterday. In only five minutes. I should know—we timed it. (With only two of those minutes being because she couldn't find the right store.)

Bree dangled the keys, shouting at the door, "I don't hear any bonding!"

Satisfied when she heard noise. She linked arms with me and pulled me toward the other side of the room. "If you don't hear anything breaking then they haven't killed each other yet." She smiled brightly waving before dashing off without hearing my protest.

I sighed, leaning against the wall facing the huge metallic door with the Davenport Industries symbol on it. That look oddly like my father's. I could already tell that'd been close is college, possibly in high school too. Dad had always told me that not many people saw science the way he did. Key word being _many_.

"Gotta talk if you ever wanna come out of there," I called to the door, sticking the keys ino my pocket. Laughing after I heard them groan.

Eddy appeared on the monitor. "Way to princess," he remarked. "Now I can watch something interesting for a change."

I rolled my eyes. "Just make sure they stay in there and keep the door locked until someone comes to let them out."

"And what if I do?"

"Then Edie won't be visiting a certain someone for a while."

"That's low, Cupcake!"

I started walking away, out of the lab. Calling over my shoulder, "I learnt from you!"

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"How long have they been down there?" Leo asked, setting down the pile of plates he'd been holding on top of the top.

Christine shrugged. "I dunno, three or four hours at most."

I raised an eyebrow. "And Eddy hasn't let them up by now? I figured he'd be pulling something by letting them out early."

"Let's just say that I know Eddy isn't going against my demands," Christine replied, turing to the monitor where Eddy was. "Would you, Eddy?"

"You're still low, Cupcake," he responded, trying his best to look like he was glaring. It was kind of impossible considering he doesn't have really eyes.

"Whatever, the threat still stands."

I chuckled, kissig Christine's cheek. "You two seem to be getting along really well aren't you," I chuckled, Eddy disappearing from the monitor.

She muttered smething about sarcasam only being cute on her, not that I disagree with that comment.

"Eddie, bring them up," Bree called from her spot in the kitchen getting a Gatorade.

"If I don't?" he responded moodily. Whatever Christine had over his head must've brought out his annoyance.

Christine raised her eyebrows at him and crossed her arms. "I wouldn't be pushing it if I were you," she advised, "Like I said before: the threat still stands."

With a few not-so-kinds words on Eddy's part, he brought up the lab on the monitor.

"We're not letting you out until we see a hug," Bree exclaimed, stepping to Chrisitne's side. "And we're waiting."

Grant and Davenport both looked at each other awakwardly, doing some weird one arm hug that involving back patting.

"Oh my God, you two look hilarious," Bree and Christine choked out hysterically, laughing their way down to the floor and rolling over each other as their faces turned red.

Davenport glared through the monitor at us. "Eddy, let us out."

"Just waiting for the signal," Eddy chirped back.

"Let them up," I commanded, still laughing from the hugging the men were forced to do.

"There's the signal."

They came up, grumbling things about four hours being way too long to go without food. Tasha shrugged over their compliants with the mention of dinner being ready if they wanted to eat.

"So, how was the bro bonding time?" Leo asked, picking at his food.

They went on to tell us that it was great and everything was sorted out perfectly well. Not that anyone believed their tall tale of not fighting.

It was when dinner was deemed over that we viewed the security cameras in the lab to see if the story they told at dinner was true or not. Christine sat next to me as we scrolled through the footage, skipping through some parts because of it jsut being heavy silence and hard glares.

"On the most part they did well for hating each others guts for this long," Christine muttered, watching Davenport and Grant scream back and forth at each other for a while. they picked up random thing laying on the desk, never actually throwing them except for once.

"And I think it's going to be difficult to get that wrench out of the wall though," I stated, swiveling in my chair to point out the tool still lodged into the wall.

Chrisitne shrugged. "A problem for another day." Then she pushed my chair over. "Now scoot, I need to use your laptop for something."

She typed away, leaving me to peer over her shoulder interest. "What are you doing?"

"Commenting on how hot Robin is in the 1996 Batman on Youtube."

"If he's hot than what am I?"

"Not as hot as Robin."

"What?" I asked, offended. It's hard not to be when you're girlfriend doesn't think you're as good looking a ficitonal character.

Christine rolled her eyes as I started going off, not even understanding myself as I rambled. She grabbed my neck and dragged my lips onto hers, kissing me deeply before pulling away.

"What was that for?"

Christine continued to tap at my laptop. "To get you to shut up."

* * *

><p>Christine stayed the night, her and Bree camping out on the couch to watch TV and gossip without having us around. (Plus the fact that Bree was too lazy to clean her room, but she wouldn't admit it.) Grant had went home, Davenport even waving good-bye as he pulled otu of the driveway.<p>

Tasha and Davenport were gone the next morning, the latter being dragged to an important reporter's meeting.

"Gravity Falls!" Christine shouted at the top of her lungs while we ate breakfast, abandoning her cereal bowl and belly floping onto the couch to watch the show.

"It's her favorite show," Bree explained to us as Adam, Leo, and I stared at her in confusion.

"Mabel is the best!" Christine called from her spot on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. "Now quit talking! You're gonna make me miss it!"

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you liked it! Because I'm actually proud of how this turned out. Since this is pretty long (just barely 3,000 words), every chapter will be this long so the story can remain under forty chapters long, some being longer than others.<strong>


	23. Chapter 22

**Hey guys. I had read a bunch of reviews for my other Lab Rats story that just ended, and it was really a proud but depressing moment for me. All the reviews were both sad and excited about the fact how it was over, but they knew I would post another one so they knew it wasn't the end.**

**And that's what I think is going to happen when this story ends. Are some of you going to be sad when this story ends? But at least happy there will be a sequel?**

**So anyway, for any of you who were wondering, this story is going to have a most of thirty-five chapters. But each of them will be at least 3,000 or a bit more long.**

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"Okay, do you know what to do?" Davenport asked for billionth time. I just nodded and made sure just to get it over.

Ever since Davenport and Dad had gotten all buddy-buddy with each other, they thought it would have been _just an awesome idea _have me start training with the others twice a week to keep a better control of my abilities. But I'm just glad they didn't have me doing it four times a week at night like Adam, Bree, and Chase.

Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as I focused my energy on all the anger I tried to release on my dad by easily clawing his eyes out last week. Then my eyes snapped open as that determined, in control rush flooded me again. I broke out into different self dense techniques, my fists flying and making sharp contact with the dummy Davenport was cowering behind. I was never one for karate, but my dad had took precautions with my fighting skills for when I ever ran into any trouble.

"Wow," Bree said, impressed when I stopped and was panting heavily. "Keep doing that and you'll be almost up to Chase's level."

"Sure," Chase snorted, crossing his arms, switching his gaze to me. "Sorry Chris, but I think that's near impossible."

I pressed my lips together and return his stare, stepping closer until we're only a few mere inches apart. "Oh really? Is that a challenge, hun?"

"Do you want to make it one?" Chase leaned even closer, letting his breath fan across my face. "Here after training." He smirked, kissing my cheek. "And don't be late."

"I don't plan on it."

Chase kissed me again (not lightly either, just to get on everyone's nerves) and walked back to his own gang of dummies as I turned back to mine, focusing on getting that feeling back, and completely forgetting what I signed myself up for. Chase was a black belt, being trained in martial arts for years for missions he would go on. And I just started literally a week ago.

In simple words—I'm getting my butt kicked.

At least that's what I kept telling myself as I go through the motions of practicing control on each of my emotions. That's why when the day's training session came to an end, I really wasn't ready.

But then again, I wasn't ready for even _knowing _karate, so I guess I'm not going to ready for when he flipped to the ground either.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." Chase winked at me, getting into place.

I just groaned and copy his position. This was my first time not closing my eyes to get that same vein flooding emotion for the fight. Although, it was also my first time not using all of it at once, considering that if I let the anger overpower me, it would take ahold of my self-control. _Think of this as part of your training, _I desperately tried to convince myself, getting rid of the doubt and feeling that easy boost of confidence but not the alpha spike.

"What just happened?" Chase suddenly asked from the ground, where he laid with my foot on his chest. "Seriously. Everything went by in a blur—what happened?"

"Chris just kicked your butt, that's what happened," Bree whooped as she laughed. I narrowed my eyes and tried to think back to when I even did it. All I remember from the sparring match was flipping and dodging. But that's it. I grabbed Chase's hand and helped him, brushing off his shirt.

"Didn't know you had it in you," Chase said sarcastically, kissing my cheek.

I just blinked. "Me either."

* * *

><p>The first thing I hear at school the next day is a lot of squealing and screaming as smudgy blurs of my friends tackle me to the nearest bench.<p>

"Why did you tell us you are a friend with _the Hunter Hayes_?" Rachel hissed in excitement as she jumped up and down in circles around me. "This would be the perfect time for him to propose to me."

I snorted, dusting myself off and rolling my eyes. "Oh please, Like he really wants a wife when he goes on stage and tours." I give her a pointed look as Rachel screwed her lips to the side as I continued with a sarcastic, "And watching your husband have girls drool over his shoes would be just dandy to have, wouldn't it?"

Rachel pouted, kicking at the ground with her ankle boots. "Well thanks for ruining my good mood."

"Woah," Janelle stated, sounding awestruck. "Where'd you get the bling dude?"

I scrunched my nose up, confused until she pointed a finely striped nail at my neck. "Oh," I laughed, putting the swan in my hand. "Chase got it for me, but I couldn't wear it around my dad, so I hid it. But now I can finally start wearing it in public."

"Like I could be dating Hunter in public," Rachel muttered bitterly to herself, thinking I couldn't hear. But when I gave her shoulder a hard shove, I think she got to drop the topic. (For now anyway. When Rachel's hooked on something, she'll never drop it until she got the last word in.)

"What tall, dumb, and handsome?" Janelle teased, nudging Rachel in the ribs as she subtly pointed toward where Adam was making faces with the cheerleaders. "Oh come on, everyone can see it whether you like it or not. You know—everyone except Adam." Janelle eyeballed him once again. "You get with him we'll officially have everyone from their male gender covered."

Sammie and I nodded in agreement; once Janelle got the guts to confess to Leo, and Rachel ever coughed up the obvious about what she felt for Adam, then we'd have them covered.

She blushed, ducking her head so her corkscrew curls covered her. "I have no idea what you're _talking about_!" Rachel spluttered with a cringe—the squeaky rise at the end of her protest was a dead give-away. "Why would I think that about him?"

"Because you _luuuurve him_," Janelle, Sammie, and I chorused together, unfairly gaining up on Rachel. But even with out minimal efforts, she was cherry red and not doing much defending for having a lawyer for a mother. And it made sense with them together; not only would they be one of cutest couple ever (behind Chase and me of course) but they'd also help improve what the other was lacking. Brains for Adam and humor for Rachel. It was all perfect.

"And you're not doing a lot of _denying_," I sung on my own, rasing my eyebrows as we headed toward the library until the bell rang. Sammie linked arms with Janelle and me, leaving Rachel to stubbornly link arms with me. "So it must be a sign of true love."

"Or all of you have gone completely bonkers," Rachel muttered bitterly. Still not denying but implying all the confirming needed to convince us we were right.

With a pointed look from one of the three librarians our school library had, we tried to lower our volume, but still squealing they had to go to extreme measures and nearly throw us out.

"Harsh chiz," Janelle muttered so the librarian couldn't hear. We had to hold both our hands over our mouths to keep from getting caught. "What the fug crawled in to their books and died?"

I snorted loudly, earning strange looks from other students and daggers from the dour woman at the desk with wire framed glasses nearly sliding off her narrow nose. "Quit making me laugh,"I hissed to them. "Or I'm gonna get thrown out and banned. Then the next thing you know, I'm in prison. Now do you really want that to happen?"

Sammie wrinkled her nose and bit the ned of her swirly blue pen. "Why does everything have to lead up to prison these days?"

Rachel shrugged, picking at her finger as she propped her elbows on the table. "My mom blames the Government. Just like everyone else does."

Janelle rubbed her lips together and added a quick, "Because everything leads back to them."

I gave them all my best 'are you daft?' look that I could manage. "Why are we even still talking the Government and their crap?"

"Because you started it," they blamed in unison, pointing fingers at me. I just shrugged in defense, knowing it was true, but it wasn't like I was going to admit that. They would just mean that they won the blame game; I'm _so not _letting that happen..._again_.

"Anyway," Sammie said with a quick roll of her eyes. "What does Chase think of Hunter? Is he as suspicious of the fame as we all bet on him to be?"

I shot them another look. "Why does everything have to be a bet between you guys? Can't you do snack gambling instead like good little teenagers for once?"

All three of them shot me their best looking, send me the signal to drop it while I can, or I'll be rung into even more bets that I probably don't want to know about. Strange how if I got that look from a person I didn't know, I would think fo slapping them. And when I do get it from someone I know, I still think about slapping them.

"Answer the questions," Rachel demanded, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me.

I tried to push her digging fingers off my shoulders, desperate to get her nails out of my skin before they make me bleed. "Then stop shaking me, why don'tcha?" She finally stopped, Janelle and Sammie joining Rachel in staring at me with wide eyes until I cracked.

"They'll meet tonight," I muttered, interlocking my fingers and playing a game that my music teacher taught me in grade school. It wasn't that fun or anything, but it gave me something to do. "And I just hope that Hunter doesn't go into ultra overprotective big brother mode."

"He has one of those modes?" Rachel gasped, a beaming, flirtatious smile on her lips. "Dang, it must be sexy."

I promptly thumped her on the head.

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"Can you promise to try to not bite each other's heads off?" Christine begged, frozen half between taking her phone out of her pants' pocket.

"I won't if he won't," I responded, leaning back against the couch as she started talking to whoever. Bree screamed at me for the last hour about knowing who he was, but the fact was that I didn't really care. All that mattered was that he was famous and thought he could have everything—even if that was judging him by the stereotype celebrities on TV and in the movies. And when Christine mentioned that they had briefly dated...the fact still hadn't settled on me well.

"Great...Yeah, okay that works...Got it...Yeah, love ya...Bye." Christine smiled and hung up the phone clapping her hands and sitting down next to me. "This is going to be great. My brother from another mother is going to meet my longest boyfriend ever!"

I raised an eyebrow. "What was the record before we started going out?"

"About three and a half week."

"They were idiots to break up with you."

"Ah," Christine sighed, kissing my cheek. "But if I hadn't broken up with said idiots, then maybe we wouldn't be doing this now." She smirked, grabbing my shirt collar and using it to smash our lips together. Her fingers raked through my hair as I used her belt loops to pull our bodies closer together. We fell into the laying position on the couch, not hearing the door open and close and not knowing we had an amused audience until someone obnoxiously cleared their throat.

"As much as I'd hate to interrupt, Christine called me over here?" Christine pulled away, a dark blush creeping up her to settle on her cheeks as she clumsily crawled off of me to distractedly straighten her shirt and smooth her hairs. Twiddling her thumbs like a kid caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.

Me on the otherhand—I coul've been feeling a lot better at that moment Hunter had chosen to walk in ten minutes later than he did. The way he stood there, eyebrows raised and arms crossed as if we have something to explain to him. From what I know, Christine had told him about us and that he shouldn't worry about her like he did with all the others. I wonder if that message ever got through his head clearly enough to believe it?

"So this is it." Christine stood and clapped her hands. "Hunter, Chase—Chase, Hunter." She sat back down and intertwined our hands together.

"Awesome introduction, Chris," I said sarcastically, kissing her temple as she hid her face in my neck.

Hunter looked us over. "You guys are super cozy, I see." Nice way of stating the obvious. "You sure you're doesn't mind it?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Christine looked up and tilted her head in a way as if she was just catching on to something that had been there all along. I was just confused. "And why do have that look on your face?"

Hunter avoided her gaze. "What are you talking about?"

"That look—that look you wear when you know you're screwed about something and it involves-slash-involves me." Christine cocked her hip and crossed her arms in a way that led me to believe that he was a goner. "So I recommend you fess up now before I am forced to flip it out of you.

"And she will do it to," I added, defending my girlfriend's threat, knowing it was nowhere near empty. "So don't take it lightly.

"I might maybe slippedittoyourfatheraboutit before he knew..."

"Oh my God!" Christine punched his shoulder. "So that's how he knew where we were. Just—Oh my God." She groaned, letting out a scream after, grabbing the thing the nearest to her (good thing for Hunter than it was a throw pillow and not one of the many vases in the house...) and promptly hitting him in the chest. "Get out!"

After five minutes of protesting, Hunter finally left, grumbling about being back some other day or whatever.

Christine let out another angry scream, slamming the throw pillow hard on to the couch. "I can't believe him," she said bitter, crossing her arms and sinking into me. "I just—I just thought he was better than that."

"Let's just try to get our minds off of it," I tried quickly to changed the subject. "What would you say two a horror movie marathon?"

* * *

><p>Five and a half movies later (and only three freak-outs on Christine's part) I was exhausted and Christine was already dead asleep, curled into my lap, looking adorable with her falling out of the messy bun she put it in. Quietly picking up the remote, I shut off the TV and carefully took Christine into my arms, starting for the stairs.<p>

After getting in and out of her bedroom—not before kissing her forehead and making she was actually _in _the bed and not hanging half in like usual—I jumped in surprise at the sight of Rem standing behind.

"You can sleep on the couch," she stated, leaving no room for another comment as she whirred downstairs.

I raised my eyebrows when looking at my phone, trying to figure out how it became so late already.

Then Rem turned back to me already at the stairs. "And you better be on that couch and not in Christine's room by the time morning comes."

* * *

><p><strong>I think this is more of a filler than anything. But bye-bye Hunter: :L How many of you thought you saw that coming? Or how many of you were completely taken by surprise at Rachel's little crush?<strong>

**Please review and tell us what you thought. :)**


	24. Chapter 23

**Hey guys. So this will actually be a real, non-filler chapter, because that's what I felt the last one was like...**

**Anyhow, you guys have me for barely two more weeks until school starts up again and I drift away forever :( Haha, but I will be spending less time on here. (Not by choice, trust me on that.)**

**Cody Simpson vs Billy Unger (my partner for this story) has already warned me about her starting school earlier than me, so it seems this story is going to have slower updates.**

**Don't blame us; it's school's fault.**

**Just a little heads up, I have no clue on how to write a college scene, so please don't flame me because I have no idea how it works.**

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"This is going to be torture!" I groaned as Christine swatted my arm, playfully glaring as we stopped in front on her house.

She squeezed my hand for support, letting go too quickly. Christine smirked at my face, laughing as she pushed me toward the door. "Quit being such a baby; you're going to be fine." She screwed her lips to the side, staring down the street in the direction she would be going in. "Besides, spending time with Davenport isn't number one on my to do list either, you know."

"Then can't we ditch this?" I whined again, getting desperate.

Christine rolled her eyes and knocked on the door, flicking her hand at me in a wave and running down the street, leaving me alone.

So much for supportive girlfriends.

Before I had a chance to run after her—I really didn't want to be here—when the door opened to reveal Grant. "Shouldn't you be with Christine today?" he asked puzzled. "She told me you both had a busy day."

I stood there awkwardly, hands shoved deep down into my pockets as I thought of something to say. "Before I tell you, you should know that all of this was Christine's idea."

Grant chuckled, leading me inside. "And why is that worrying me?" I couldn't but laugh at that too; Christine's never been one for other options—the first one better than any others.

"She thought that spending time with you would help get us closer?" I said unsurely, staring at the door and wondering if Christine had ditched to leave me alone with her plan. "And she's over there with Davenport."

He looked of distantly, as if predicting how well that would turn out. "The two of the most cocky and stubborn people spending an afternoon with each other; did she think this over first?"

I shrugged, seating myself on the couch as I shrugged. "This is all a surprise to me too."

Everything is awkward as we sit together on the couch, staring at random things in the room. I've never really hung out with another guy before—Davenport never really considered a father figure—much less my girlfriend's father. The only thing I could hope for was to not screw it up as I badly as I thought I will.

"What do we do now?" Grant shrugged, watching Rem whir by with a feather duster. "We can't sit like this forever; Christine will have both our heads," I added with a laugh—is anything, it wasn't funny although true, but it helped lighten the mood for the awkward tension it was as Grant chuckled along before snapping his fingers.

He stood, making his way up the stairs as he called over his shoulder, "How about some pictures?"

I chuckled, Grant not waiting for a response as he continued for the pictures. Christine was going to hate me forever if I ever brought up—I could already picture the scene of her hitting me like there's no tomorrow from bringing up her adorable baby pictures. I assume there adorable anyway, I have no reason to think less.

Moments later two supply bins are set down in front of me with grinning Grant returning to his claimed spot next to me. I couldn't judge him not having photo albums. Not only because Davenport wasn't big on keeping pictures of us as kids (_"Your memory chips can tell what I want to see when I want to see it"—_such a wise response to the question of having no family pictures) and Christine did say she moved around a lot, it being hard to lug around a bunch of photo albums all the time. This must have been the next best thing rather than not having any pictures and snapshots at all.

"A lot of photos," I commented as he snapped one of the two bins open.

He shrugged, as if it wasn't much. "She liked to explore almost everything. It wasn't hard for her to go through at least five cameras a trip." Grant laughed his face scrunching up as he lifted a small string of pictures that looked to be from a photo booth.

The all had two girls—a younger Christine and a shorter, skinnier girl with an edgy bob and a wicked grin, as if she knew something you didn't and enjoyed seeing you squirm because of it. Each square had them posing in different ways: the first one of them sitting side by side with huge beaming smiles stretched across their faces with both their hands up in thumbs up. The second one a shot of Christine sprawled over her friend, eyes closed tightly with her tongue out as she made the rocker signs with the other girl's head thrown backward and laughing hysterically. The third was cheesier, they both sticking two fingers behind the girls' head for bunny ears, smiling brightly. The fourth had to be my favorite—Christine leaning toward the camera with a fishy face, sucking her cheeks in as her friend crossed her eyes and flapped her lips. Both so carefree and happy; their happiness contagious as a smile spread across my face.

"That was a couple years back with her cousin in New York," Grant mused as I stared down at the picture. "Ella was a sight to see—very sarcastic and stubborn, and at the worse times as well."

"Sounds like Bree on her bad days," I muttered, putting the stripe down for a picture of a skinny woman with large brown eyes and shoulder-length hair smiling brightly holding a giggling purple bundle with a face poking out of it. "Who's this?"

Grant stopped rummaging through a stack he'd randomly pulled out to turn and face the picture in my hand. "That's Maria and Christine two years before the incident."

I squinted in thought, looking away as I thought whether or not it'd be rude or not to ask what said 'incident' was. But the lady was beautiful; a perfect image of an older Christine that I hoped I'd be able to call mine someday.

"She's a spitting image of her mother, isn't she?" Grant rubbed his face. I just nodded, trying to crack his sudden moodiness. I've never been one to handle mood swings well; I tried to stay away from people that jumped from emotion to emotion—their auras changing constantly. "It's hard not to think about her when Christine's around sometimes."

Hesitating, I barely managed to ask, "Do you mind telling me?"

He sighed, ignoring me—staring at the coffee table for so long I was starting to think he didn't even hear me. Until he responded with a distance, "It started in college…"

_-:-  
><em>

_It was opera night at the theater night on campus, the first College Production for this semester. Even when sitting in the audience (especially itchy chairs with the awaiting crowd flipping back and forth through their programs), the crow could feel the hustle and bustle going on behind the curtains. Everyone preparing—so much pressure on getting this performance right._

_A young, handsome student fidgeted in his seat, watching the stage with careful eyes as the curtains had yet to be drawn. He's only been to two others the year before, provoked to get away from his studies and let loose—see a little more of the campus than he had already. His buddy ditched him already; finding it much more interesting to view the female characters behind the scenes first._

_Moments later—ticking by with him buried in his regrets of even coming, really needing to work on his latest claim—lights dimmed, the stage ready and actors pumped._

_It was quite delightful. The acts and emotions seeping into each part mesmerizing him to new lengths; he's never experienced this kind of enchantment before and he hoped it stuck by the time the curtains closed again._

_But it was her that made him clutch to every detail, having him hanging on to every word, every movement, every flourish. _

_Her beauty was intoxicating, fetching in all the right ways under the spotlight. Make-up done naturally, dress swishing around her magnificently—so poised and in character, she must have been feeling all the riveting emotions at the same time, impossible to act so well otherwise._

_Disappointment flooded him when it was over, still clinging to the last traces of the dark beauty's performance. The audience filed out slowly, leaving him to hesitate, debate whether staying there would get him another performance. When he did leave, he was one of the last ones to slip out, still in a wonderful awe._

_Then it happened. He ran into his _dark beauty_. She was laughing, breaking away from her theater friends, heading down the trail that must lead to her part of campus._

"_Great performance," he managed to compliment, the words barely able to reach her, the young woman straining to hear them._

_She turned, smiling at the comment. Checking him over: Dark tousled hair, nice features, and genuine eyes that bore into hers. "Thanks." She shrugged, walking close enough for him to catch a sniff of her perfume. "It's nice to be noticed."_

_He smiled_—_the kind of smile that reached his eyes and warmed her core and set off an odd tingle in her. There was something about this guy, and she kind of liked it. So when he offered to treat her to some coffee (a charming statement that the library coffee was hard to beat) that she just had to say yes. Taking his offered arm, she smiled a honest, true smile as they walk to the library, chatting endlessly._

"_I never got your name," she suddenly realized, looking up from her intense job of staring into her small foam cup. "By the way, mine's Maria."_

_He looked to her with a happy expression that made her tingly all over again, feeling childish and giddy in a way that didn't make her want to stop. "Allan."_

_Maria smiled. "Good name, it suits you well."_

_Allan copied her actions and she can't help but blush, using her hair as a curtain to block her reddened cheeks, "As does yours."_

-:-

I gawked at him as he finished his story. "You two sounded like classic sweethearts. What happened?"

Grant sighed, aging instantly. "We went out a few more times. Things got intense. We had Christine while I finished up my studies. And she just…got overwhelmed with the science and my work taking over everything. So she left to pursue her career in theater."

"So I'm guessing Christine is named after her character?" I suggested, thinking over his story. At least she had a back story to her name, mine didn't. "But I have to admit, it suits her greatly."

He chuckled, messing with the photos in his hands. "That's what we thought too."

* * *

><p>Christine's Pov<p>

"It was awkward to even _watch_." Bree laughed as she shook her head. "I feel so bad for you, babe."

I sighed, head in my heads. "Go ahead, laugh it up all you want," I snapped bitterly, reaching and stealing some of her chips. "That had to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever went through—_ever._"

It's been a couple hours since I ditched Chase at my house and I felt kind of bad but I figured I was doing it good naturally. Davenport wasn't too thrilled about the idea when he was informed, and it didn't help I was starting to lose faith in the idea as well. But if we were this bad, it must have been just as awkward for the other two.

"And to think," Bree smirked, "Half of that time you spent trying to think of something to actually do." She laughed at my expense (some friend, finding my worst moments just freaking hilarious!) and playfully shoved my shoulder. "Com'n dude, if I can't laugh at you, who can?"

Grumbling, I turned the other way in my chair, still shoveling chips into my mouth as I thought of something to do in the next half hour. I was kind of cheating, spending my time with Bree while Davenport dinked around with whatever genius he was working on—some bonding time when we're not even in the same room. But maybe this was a good thing; I could laugh and laugh when Chase walked through the door, furious with me at how awkward I made his afternoon.

Speak of the devil, my boyfriend choosing that moment to walk in, grinning like a happy idiot. (Or more simply put, Adam with his sock puppets.) "You know," he started, slipping an arm around my waist. "I thought I was going to hate you for what you did to me, but I actually have to thank you."

"_Thank me?" _I echoed, appalled by his confession. Dread started to fill me as I thought of all the things that my dad could have done to embarrass me, telling Chase stuff I didn't intend for him to know until I was dead. "Oh, for the love of God, did he show you my baby pictures?"

Chase nodded his head and laughed. "That and clued me in on some of your cousins." He pecked my cheek, snatching some of Bree's chips from her bowl and sitting next to me. "He's pretty cool in a stressed, aging-too-fast kind of way."

I squinted, analyzing his face, trying to see what else my dad him, "What cousins exactly are we talking about? I have more than I can count, you know." I'm nearly positive he didn't know though.

Chase shrugged. "New York one."

"Mm," I made noise of agreement, flashing back to when I bunked with Ella for the month we were settled there. She was pretty cool, her mom being one of dad's closer sisters. Their apartment was set up for me especially, dad rooming with a buddy so we didn't have to hunt for a motel. I cringed as I remembered my schooling experience there. New York may have been a busy place, but you'd think their school district would slow down enough to monitor the bullying that surged through that middle school.

Instead of telling Chase that—not one of my finest memories that I let too many people in on—I just shrugged vaguely. "El's pretty cool, can't say the same for her city though."

He didn't pry, just shooting me a warning look that meant I would spill to him sooner or later. I inwardly groaned, a nagging little voice in my head telling me it would be sooner than I'd like it to be.

"Who'd your time go?" Chase asked, looking around probably wondering where Davenport would have scuttled off to. Bree snorted, narrowly avoiding a choking incident between her and the Pepsi in her hand.

"Oh, it was a blast," she said after having a coughing fit. "They put on a real show for me—I didn't even have to turn on the TV."

Chase laughed along with his sister, getting a shine in his eye that made my heart flutter despite my increasing annoyance with him, "That bad huh?" When I glowered at him, he just laughed, pecking my cheek with his breath smelling like salty chips. "Oh come on, you have to admit, it is kind of funny, right?"

I sighed, relenting but not letting go of it. "It was freaking hilarious! Are you two happy now?"

Bree just smirked at me, taking her bowl of chips away from us and pop in hand, heading up to her room.

Pressing my lips together, I got my own pop and guzzled half of it, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. I cringed at how piggy I was being, but then waved it away with the thought that if Chase wanted to stick around long, he'd have to deal with it. "I'm leaving now."

He furrowed his eyebrows at me with a cheeky smile. "Just taking my pop and leaving, huh?"

I nodded, smiling as I pecked his cheek. "Your name isn't on it; it isn't yours."

Chase just rolled his eyes. "Later; love you!"

I froze for a quick, dragged out second. We've never said those words so casually. I loosened myself, relaxing and continuing toward the door. We had to say them sometime. "Love you too."

* * *

><p><strong>What do ya think? What do you think about the missing figure and Christine's life? She will be mentioned more, in case some of you wanted a bit of family drama for Christine. And what about Chase saying "The Words"? Haha, I think it should have been said sooner or later, but be warned, these words will tie together some upcoming chapters, just a hint. ;)<strong>

**Please review and tell what you think about the flashback and Grant's love life. Until the next chapter! :)**


	25. Chapter 24

**New Chapter—how exciting! For you guys anyway, I'm feeling quite devious for reasons I can't give away…:)**

**Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews to the last chapter. I know we can make to one hundred for this. To all the silent readers: We serious will not bite your head off if you have something to say. If you like the chapter, tell us. If you want something specific to happen, let us know and we might fit it in somewhere (as long as it follows along with the plotline we have made out already).**

**And just in case any of you were wondering how long we're dragging this series out for, this is a three part story. The third part will only be a five-shot for reasons that will make sense after the sequel to this story (Long Live) is finished.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

I'm used to being the center of attention. As conceited as I sound, it's true—every new person is no matter what the reason is. One reason might be that your new to the school entirely, another that you're just new to a class or club. So really, I was the center of all gossip for my first three weeks before it simmered into nothing. No big deal.

When walking in Chemistry, all conversation immediately stopped, accusing whispers and curious looks following as I settled into my seat—anyone who ever watched a teen drama movie would know these are signs of something being about you. I furrowed my eyebrows, opening up my notebook to a new page as I thought about what everybody could be bugging about—and why is would be _me_.

One possibility was that Rachel and Bree blabbed to everyone that Chase looked exactly like my old boyfriend from before I came here; everyone could know about the truce that happened between our families. Those two things alone could spike up more than a dozen of rumors.

Plenty of other reasons why made my suspicions worse. Everyone could know about the spies; the word about how Chase said 'the words' first could be another way to draw attention to our status (impossible since I haven't even told Rachel yet, but also likely since Bree was there).

"What's the deal?" I whispered to Callan, keeping an eye on the door for the teacher. Funny, they scold _us _for being late to class when _they're _more tardy than us at times—such irony.

Callan looked up, noticing the funny looks and catty gossip for what seemed to be the first time. "No idea," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't really paying attention."

Two pairs of laughter called out from the other end of the classroom. I looked just in time to see one of the many stupid jocks turning away from spying on Callan and I, snickering and messing around with one of his buddies.

"Idiots," I said to myself, keeping my voice low enough so that Callan didn't hear. He was a jock himself, and it was rude to call your friends' clique meat headed idiots even if that was you thought.

Another lesson from being at a dozen schools all my life.

Callan and I didn't talk again after that, but that didn't mean the gossip lessened. I nearly lunged to claw a group of girls' eyes out because I was sick and tired of them _freaking eyeballing me!_

Just when I was about to—screw worrying about getting suspended, those Barbies deserved it—when the teacher came it, a coffee stain on his tie and the paper in his hands clearly unorganized. He rambled off about being 'sorry for being late' and started scratching on the chalkboard. (Why the school still had those, no ideas.)

He was in the middle of telling about tomorrow's assignment when the piercing of the bell stopped him. His words of studying our textbooks lost as a wave of eager students leave.

"Later," Callan said over his shoulder to me. I just wave in response, feeling hurried as I rushed to my locker. I spun the dial quickly, switching my books in time to make it to lunch. I was about to slam my locker shut when a voice snap at me.

"Is it true?" Chase spun me around, our faces only inches apart. "And when were you planning on telling me about this?"

I narrowed my eyes in confusion, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. I've never seen this side of him before—so angry and frantic-_at me_. "What on earth are you talking about?" I asked, shutting my locker door and walking to the cafeteria. "Plan on telling you what?"

"Quit sparing my feelings," Chase retorted, face red and eyes full of disbelief and hurt as he looked at me. "I know what's going on between you and—and _him!_"

I stopped, pausing mid-step to look at him. Chase couldn't possibly mean…

"You think Callan and I have a thing?" I gawked, nearly dropping to the floor in laughter. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

Chase fumed down at my bent over figure. "Is that how you take our relationship? Is everything I—you, especially—put in to this all one big joke for you to laugh at in the end?"

I immediately froze, nearly falling to the ground in shock. As soon as I right myself, chase is staring at me with an unreadable expression. We're gathering a crowd now—the same crowd that started this mess in the first place I bet.

"That's why you're always hanging out with him, right?" Chase said, hurt displaying over his gorgeous feature and taking over his brown eyes. "Was I just something to keep you entertained? Did I mean anything at all for these past months?"

"Of course you did!" I spluttered in a rant, throwing my hands up. "I put all my work in trying to keep us together! You should know by how I stood up against my dad! The helpers who were involved in that knew it too!" I swept my arm to the ground, seeing familiar helping faces as they watched the show in concern. "Callan was one of those people, so why would he 'try to go after me'?"

Like the universe hated me, the blond jock walked up to us, pushing us a farther distance apart as if Chase would lay a hand on me. But I didn't want to be away from Chase; the only thing that would have satisfied me at that moment was kissing all the doubt and hurt out of him, ignoring all the rumors that people have been spreading.

"What's going here?" Callan asked, dripping with concern and puzzlement at the same time.

The weirdest thing started happening. I knew Chase to be well self-controlled—not the type of person you can get angry easily—annoyed, yes, but never as infuriated as I saw him at that moment.

At first, I thought he would just explode (with his tomato red face and heaving chest, who _wouldn't _expect that?). But Chase did worse than that, catching me—or everyone, I couldn't be sure—by surprise as he stood up straighter, looking more intimidating and beastly. His intelligent chocolate eyes seemed to dissolve, steely gray ones falling into place. I back away cautiously, trying to put more distance in between me and whoever this stranger was; this was _so not _the Chase I knew.

I heard a gasp, just barely tearing my eyes away and seeing Bree push her way to the front of the ground, eyeing this boy in front of me frantically, shifting her body weight as she contemplated the scene we were making nervously.

It couldn't have been a mere second or two that I looked away from both the boys in front of me (two seconds too many). A flash of blond blurred before me as Callan fell to the floor with a thud, groaning in pain as he held one hand to his cheek.

"God!" I shrieked, falling to my knees beside him and peeling his hand away from his cheek. Cringing, I took note of how noticeably flushed and red Callan's cheek looked compared to the other one. "This is awful," I added distantly, being careful to mind the swelling as I gingerly poked it. Suddenly, I snapped my glare to the huffing figure above me. My eyes glowered at him; this was not Chase—this was a beast in Chase's body.

Bree once mentioned something like this imagined on occasion, but assured me that it would never happen _because _of me, probably _over _me. But I never thought that it would be both. And that it would get so…violent.

What was his name —Spine? Splint, maybe? The name wasn't coming to me.

"Do something," Bree hissed to Adam, dragging him to her side and manically pointing to whoever this (seriously out of hand) dude was.

Adam looked to us, gasping dramatically. "Hey, Spike's back! Someone should do something about that."

So Spike was his name…

Bree groaned out in frustration, "Of course Spike is back you idiot! Now get in there and do something useful."

The two continued bickering back and forth, Bree going as far as trying to push Adam into the center of the circle that was made around us three. She didn't get much progress done; Adam was twice as big as her and with his bionic strength, he might as well been rooted to that spot with tree root growing into the floor.

Resisting the urge to do a well-deserved face palm, I lugged Callan to his feet. I struggle to keep him up, seeing as he was leaning most of his body weight on me. Making sure he couldn't hear, I leaned close to this Spike dude. "Whoever you are, back off," I hissed with all the venom I could muster. "Get Chase back and do whatever you do when you're not screwing with other people's lives."

He let out a loud rumble that sounded like a gravelly growl combined with a laugh. "There's no fun in that plan, babe," he disagreed cockily. Then Spike leaned back, staring at me, as if driving in my image with a disapproving frown. "There's apparently no fun in you either," he added as an afterthought with an undertone of disgust.

I continued to glower at him, though something churned in my stomach more agitatedly than with anger. I blinked several times, wondering if my eyes flashed different colors; from brown to red, from red to blue. From happy to angry; from angry to sadness. It's moments likes these when I hate having eyes that change on my mood—it made it twice as difficult to hide what I don't want people to see. That's why when I stood, facing Spike (my boyfriend's worst, most hideous side), I felt absolutely sure—terrified yet sure, a horrid combination for trying to look strong—that he knew my every weakness.

And he knew it too.

"What's that supposed to me?" I asked, staring right into his cold empty eyes. My lips pressed tightly together, willing myself not to solve the obvious answer laid out before me. I didn't want the answer; I didn't want an answer from somebody who had the power to change what me and Chase had when he didn't mean the answer.

Spike smirked coldly, leaning close enough to have his breath push against my cheeks. It sent an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. I tried not to squirm too much, Callan still propping himself against me. It was a struggle to keep both of us from falling to the floor. "I think you know, babe," Spike hissed venomously, right into my ear, before pulling back sharply and curling his lips cruelly at me. "It's over."

Two words.

That's all it took to send the world spinning and bile climbing up my throat. My vision blurred with tears welling up in my eyes. All I remembered was running off, head down as I collapsed into the nearest girl's bathroom, banging into the first stall I could stumble into. My hands gripped the toilet, the ends of my hair touch the bowl as I waited, testing to see if I could manage sobbing and vomiting at the same time.

Different footfalls came in just a mere minutes after, several frantic voices calling out to me. I might have responded, I might have not—I couldn't be sure with the painful pound between my eyes and my heart lurching into my throat, again and again and again. Someone, pulled my hair back while another of hands patted my back and rubbed my shoulder.

_It's over._

* * *

><p>Bree's Pov<p>

I'm speechless. So is everyone else, staring at the spot Christine had last been. I wanted to race after her with Rachel, Janelle, and Sammie, but thought of it. Seeing me wouldn't be good for her at the moment—seeing anything that reminded her of Chase would not be good for Christine in general.

"What was that?" I cried out loudly, punching whoever-in-the-same-body-as-my-brother in the shoulder. "You just ruined everything! Your first girlfriend, and you just _dump her_? I was this close to getting her to agree for me to be her maid of honor."

I couldn't tell if it was Spike or not (he didn't break my arm yet, so that was a good sign) but I angry at whoever it was. Because whoever just threw one of my best relationships—and there's too—down the drain just because they snapped with jealousy.

But my mind was telling me to look on the bright side: Maybe Chase could win her back.

Clamping my hand on his shoulder, I spun him around, his body no longer heaving and his eyes back to normal, darting around in alarm. "What just happened? _And what do you mean _dump her?"

Leo clapped sarcastically, adding an eye roll ass he scoffed, "Great job man, you ended your only relationship; you socked a jock in the jaw; and you've doomed yourself to permanent sadness for the rest of your high school years all before lunch. Just excellent."

Adam looked down at Leo in confusion. "Why are you clapping? That sounds awful."

Leo shook his head. "Don't strain yourself—you might pop a precious brain cell."

"I broke up Christine?" Chase squeaked out in horror, grabbing at his hair as he started pacing. The crowd had thinned, students eager to get to lunch and chat with their friends. But still seeing clumps of watching students, looking for some more drama—more ways to spread more rumors. I pulled him more to the side, near a set of lockers. "God, I'm a idiot," he kept muttering to himself, over and over again.

I would have corrected him if it hadn't been true.

"Technically, Spike is the idiot," Leo said thoughtfully, "But it's all the same." Suddenly his eyes widened in alarm, punching Chase in the shoulder. "Now thanks to you, Janelle gonna want nothing to do with me!" Huffing, he stormed off, dragging a confused and slightly dazed Adam behind him.

Chase sighed sadly as his face sagging as groaned, "What am I supposed to do now? Christine was the love of my life and my stupid bionic personality scared her away."

I just shrugged, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I've never been one for sympathy—especially toward Chase. He never needed it, and now that he did—he was turning both of us into a mess.

Whatever you do, you better do it. And quickly," I added, walking off.

And just when things were finally away from the drama.

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

_At first things were abnormally blurry._

_It took a second for the image to adjust, hazy and gauzy around the edges. But through it I see Christine—a slightly older, more beautiful Christine in a blinding white dress that dropped to the floor and skimmed her heels. Her hands gripped a lovely bouquet of pink and red roses; Christine hated pink._

_She seemed to be looking right at me, smiling with gratitude and hope, eyes glimmering in happiness. But in another way, she was looking like through me, like how an actress looked directly at the camera and made it seem you were in the other person's shoes, staring right back at her._

_But I _had to be _the person staring right back at her, beaming along as well as the priest read along to the book held. Both of us standing across from each other at the altar.  
><em>

_"Do you take Christine Annabelle Grant as your lawfully wedded wife?"  
><em>

_"I do." I paused, mentally replaying the words just spoken in my head; they didn't sound right_—_fitting into my mouth wrong.  
><em>

_"And do you take Callan Louis Micheal as your lawfully wedded husband?"  
><em>

_Christine smiled, turning to the man in front of her that was no longer me. The image zoomed back, revealing Callan with his slicked back hair and tux as he stood there, all cocky and sure as he gazed at Christine.  
><em>

_I tried to protest; I tried screaming out and flailing my hands in the air, desperate to be noticed.  
><em>

_Just as Callan and Christine leaned in, lips nearly touching as her veil connected their faces, the horror show darkened, blackening to darkness as I fell, screaming all the way as I wriggled and squirmed. My body trapped together like being wrapped up in netting...  
><em>

"...Jesus, just wake up already!"

I woke with start, my limbs trapped in my sheets as I laid out sprawled out on the floor. Sweat dripped down my face as I looked up at Bree and Leo. "What happened?"

Leo snorted. "What do you think genius? You had a scream fest in your sleep about how your doomed to be forever alone while Callan and Christine honeymoon."

"Way to be nice about it," Bree snapped, whacking his head. I noticed how her hair was sticking up and she more irritable that normal; she didn't like getting up early and this was no exception. Then she turned to me, hissing, "And nice way of keeping it down too. The only way we heard is because we don't snore loud enough to block our hearing."

"Thanks for the sympathy, Sis," I mumbled sarcastically, untangling myself and adjusting my body into a seated position on my bed. "And now I ruined the rest of my life with no way to fix and there's no way she's _ever ever ever_ going to take me back_—_"

Something slapped me across the face, making painful contact with my cheek. "Snap out of it!" Leo cried, pulling his hand away.

"Thanks," I said, "I needed that."

Bree put her hands on her hips. "And it's not like your _alone _on this. You have us to help you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Leo protested with his hands up. "What makes you think I'm going to help repair his ruined love life?"

Bree raised her eyebrows. "Do you want Janelle back or not?"

Leo widened his eyes, turning to me with sudden enthusiasm. "How can I help?"

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><p><strong>I know a lot of you were asking for some more Spike, so here it is! Do you think Christine and Chase are going to get back together? And should I have the next chapter in Christine or Rachel's Pov at the beginning?<strong>

**Tell me in a lovely review, darlings.**


	26. Chapter 25

**Hello.**

**I just wanted to remind you that I and my partner and crime love that you're all enjoying the story so far. And if you want to type up how much you love, please leave your comments in a quick review so we can read it.**

**Please and thank you. :)**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

It's always hard adjusting to change and pain. Sometimes, fate cruelly wrapped them into one so you can deal with them at the same time—take both of them and experience twice the pain and agonizing wait for you to heal again.

I laid in head, buried in mountains of blankets and pillows, sounding like a dying animal as I dry heaved; the only thing you can do when you've ran dry of tears and anger, no longer wishing you could just punch a wall.

Times like that made me want a Mom…

…_My Mom_.

Seeing all those movies and TV shows about daughters and mothers working together through heartbreak and high school in general made me realize what huge hole was gaping in my life, and its shape and form. Rem was amazing—I couldn't have asked for anyone better. But she can only do so much to fill the void.

When lying there, shunning the world, that's what my thoughts were focused on. Everything depressing in my life just rose to the surface at my lowest point, mocking me as hard as a slap to the face.

With stiff joints, I rose to my feet, slippers shuffling out of my room and down the stairs as I tightened my comforter around me tighter. I groaned—never in my life had I found a trip to the living room so agonizingly slow and painful. (Earlier that week I felt the same about traveling the bathroom every day.)

I collapsed onto the couch a bitter handful of minutes later, legs already sighing in relief when I plant my butt down and try to reach the remote; I gave up with my fingertips a good inch or two away.

Boy did break-ups make me a mess. Not even being able to reach for the remote—even to me that was lazy.

Break-ups also turned a person abnormally bitter.

I felt kind of bad as I thought back to earlier that day when I came home from school, instantly blowing up at my father just because he asked how my day went; it wasn't his fault he didn't know about Chase's freaky demon split-personality.

Suddenly my phone started buzzing. With a groan I looked up from the pillow I stuffed my face into—then groaned again when I saw the caller ID.

I didn't hate Bree; I never could hate the girl that became my best friend on my first week of school. But talking to her wasn't good for me right now—talking to a Davenport would lead me to think about another one who I fell in love with…

With a simple shake of my head, I buried myself deeper into my comforter again; ignoring my phone and "shunning the world" someone could call it.

Rem whirred by a couple times, never once attempting to talk to me. I couldn't blame her—my sour mood and depressing aura was enough to flag a person away.

That's what I was hoping until I heard the doorbell go off. I groaned while slamming throw pillows over my ears. I waited—Rem never came by to answer whoever insisted coming over on the worst day ever, leaving me to do it.

I really hated people at that moment.

"What do you want?" I snapped bitterly as the door swung open. On any other day, the thought of being seen in my wrinkly pajamas, monkey slippers, and major bedhead, I would've slammed the door in their faces and left them there to wait until I was decent again.

But things change.

_People _change.

Hunter stood there, looking me over. "You should dress that more often," he teased, inviting himself in like always.

I was shoved aside, crossing my arms and glowering at the back of his head, mumbling insults along the line of, "famous ex-boyfriend idiot," and things much worse.

"I'll ignore them because of your pain," Hunter just replied with. He sat down on the couch. "Now, are you going to scream and yell at the top of your lungs like you always do?"

I frowned; he's been present for way to many of my break-up sessions.

"Too late," I said in mock sadness, pouting at him as I sit next to him. "You missed that the second day of my moping."

"It's only Thursday and you've had school," Hunter pointed out, "How much moping could you do?" Then, like tacking it on as an afterthought he added, "You _have _been going to school, right?"

I crossed my arms and stared straight ahead. "You don't go to college," I defended weakly, making a fatal attempt to dismiss his question. "So why should I go to school?"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "That was the worst argument ever," he claimed dramatically and I couldn't help but agree. "Besides," he added, "I'm famous—there's no time to go to school in my schedule."

"But plenty of time to bug me," I complained. I crossed my arms and frowned, staring down at my slippers propped up on the coffee table. "So why not throw some time to flip through textbooks in while you're at it?"

Hunter smirked, "There no fun."

"You know," I began, twisting to face him, "Hitting and punching you until you bleed seems like the perfect plan to make you leave right now." I sneered playfully. "I am broken-hearted; a lot of my emotions can go into using you as a punching bag."

Hunter's Pov

I never went for the same girl twice; repeating a relationship was like trying to remake something that you knew wouldn't work out in the end but going ahead and doing it anyway. I haven't dated many girls (most of them because my manager said to), but I knew enough to know that every girl coming out of a un-sparked relationship felt the same way I did.

But Christine was different.

The only reason we were so close was because we were born into a friendship already made by our parents meeting up with each other through school. So it was the typical cliché cycle of Best friends-boyfriend girlfriend-best friends all over again.

It was bad or rocky or complicated—just awkward. So we ended it, still closer than ever and still mutual about our feelings.

But I didn't catch on to the whole "dating other people" situation until Christine started doing so: Dating boys.

None of that was her fault. Christine knew what type of thing she was getting into; she was used to the brief month-slash-couple of week's thing since she was fourteen. So every time she moved, the mark of an ended dating game became the point of a new one.

Being the best friend I was to her, I sat back at her wishes of doing this alone, watching it all play out over and over again.

That didn't mean I _liked it_.

I especially didn't like the types she was attracted to: Bad Boys—or to a lesser extent, Detention Campers, I liked to call them. Somehow Christine found something oddly interesting in how they always played it cool in the worst problems they faced.

So you can imagine my surprise when Allan and Christine pack up and she fell for a geek (or nerd, I can't tell the difference between the two stereotypes).

Chase was pretty decent by the way Christine described him—you're corky, smarty pants type of high school who flaunted their intelligence at every chance they could; taking a beating from the jocks because of it.

"Chase just has that same pull as all the others," Christine had explained over one of our Skype sessions. "Except this one seems stronger—a bigger curiosity of him, you know? That one feeling you get in your gut that tells you that person _you just have _to meet. Get it?

Of course I didn't, but played along for her sake.

"I think you should just forget about him," I cut her off suddenly, shrugging.

Christine narrowed her eyes at me. "That's kind of hard to do you know—we've only been split for three days."

"Why remember something that breaks your heart?" I urged, turning to face her even more, staring right in to her big brown eyes as they looked off distractedly.

Her eyes darted down to her lap quickly, her hand fidgeting with the belt of her robe. "I think of my mom a lot," she whispered, distractedly, her head shooting up as her eyes bounce around the room. "Especially now…"

My eyes widened and I thought I nearly lost her. Christine's only had these types of moments three or four times before—they weren't anything _too _major, basically her spacing out because of thinking with her mom. The longest I've ever been around to see her gone was at least four hours, just sitting on a chair while staring straight ahead…

…Unblinking.

Allan's only taken it to professionals once or twice—_this was her relief_, they claimed. _Leave her be and she'll be fine_.

So that's what we did.

Fortunately, there were ways tell measure how bad the space-out would get. A certain look Christine would get in her eyes; blank or vacant—not as similar as people would think.

I never knew how to snap her out of it exactly, so I did the first thing that came to mind.

"What are you _doing_?" Christine shrieked in shock, jumping off the couch and stumbling backward to the wall, staring at me with wide eyes all the while. "How to heck is that supposed to _help me_?"

I jumped up too, making my way toward her and watching as Christine shook her head back and forth, shoving off the wall and scurrying quickly toward the kitchen.

"I was trying to make you realize what I feel about you!" I protested, trying to make her understand—dig down deep enough for her to see what I still felt for her.

"By trying to force me into something I don't want?" Christine argued. Her knuckles turned a shaky white as she gripped the counter in her fists. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, repeating it until she felt calm again. "I think you should leave," Christine requested lowly, "Before you do something you'll regret."

I gaped at her in shock. "What? Why?"

"Just leave," Christine said tiredly, suddenly looking worn out. "And maybe we'll sort this out later, and if not later—"She shrugged as if not knowing how to finish her sentence and gesturing toward the door.

With a heavy sigh and regretful, guilty look shot toward her way, I made my way toward the door.

What did I just do?

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked again for the millionth time. Maybe I stressing this little 'plan' more than I should be, but I couldn't help it. Anxiety gnawed at my insides with butterflies whipping around my stomach as I wrung my hands nervously.

Bree groaned, shooting a glare toward me. "I swear," she hissed in annoyance, "You ask one more time and I'm slapping you upside the head."

"Do it," Leo snorted as he rolled his eyes. "I bet it will knock some _useful _sense into that big head of his." He turned to looking at me. "I mean seriously dude, you're always bragging about that big brain of yours—use it for something normal for once," he added while wagging his finger at me as if scolding a small child for taking candy without permission.

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest; he couldn't talk when I knew more useful things that he did, whether he thought so or not.

"Comic geek."

"Brain head."

"Seriously, that's the best you got?" I looked at him in dismay.

Leo frowned, "You caught me at a bad moment, okay?"

"Focus you idiots," Bree snapped at us, scowling at us as she turned away from spying around the corner. "Do you want a girlfriend or not?"

I snorted and stared her down. "You're one to talk; you don't even have a boyfriend yet and I'm younger than you."

Leo clapped me on the shoulder. "Not something you want to be blurting around, dude," he whispered to me as Bree set her jaw.

"Thin ice," Bree warned with a glared, "Thin ice."

"And it's not like buff and blond is going to _love _seeing Chase walk up to him," Leo said thoughtfully, "Especially not after that awesome beat down Spike gave him!"

I looked around warily, watching out for anyone over hearing. After seeing the hall was clear of any spying students—just because they were called off doesn't mean they still didn't do it—before smacking Leo's shoulder hard. "Could you be anymore louder? I don't think _China _heard you?" I hissed to him as he rubbed his shoulder. Wimp—I didn't attempt to hit him as hard as I could him. He'd live.

"If you two ninnies are down with your yapping, Callan's at his locker. Move!" Bree shoved me from our hiding spot and I stumbled toward the aforementioned blond at his locker. I slammed my hand on the locker nearest to me, making me presence a lot angrier than what I really felt; embarrassment and annoyance that Bree was actually making me do this.

He jumped, nearly dropping the book in his hand. "Uh, hey Chase," Callan said awkwardly, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. I've never been one to take note of a person's body language—if they were feeling something, people had to make it more obvious than just standing there in a certain way, that's my theory anyway—but I could tell he was anxious to get away from me, fearful of another punch.

Who wouldn't be? Spike left a pretty impressive bruise from the last attack.

"Hey," I said back. I tried not to show it, but I was as uncomfortable as he was. But someone had to be the bigger person and his attempts at doing that were clouded by fear.

So that left me to do it.

Just. _Effing. _Great.

I was so killing Bree if the awkwardness of this situation didn't get to me first.

"Is this going to long?" Callan asked nervously. He looked down at the textbook in his hands—I would be to. "I kind of have class soon."

I looked to the clock; we had ten minutes until next period and the next period was lunch. He didn't need to be anywhere, but I don't think he knew I knew that. But instead I played along for his sake, muttering something along the lines of, "Yeah, but can you just tell Christine something for me?"

Callan finally looked up, but not at me. Instead he just looked at the locker's chipping paint on its vent. "I haven't really seen Christine. No one has, really."

Like I didn't know that before, I mused, running a hand through my hair. I'd been on the hunt for Christine all week—hanging around her classes when they got out and keeping on the lookout for the sight of her at lunch. As stalker-ish as that made I sound, I really was a desperate, pathetic teenager pining after a girl how hated his guts now.

Have I mentioned how _freaking great _my life is right now?

"Just give her this," I mumbled, digging into my pocket and shoving at folded piece of paper I'd written on this morning before leaving for school. This wasn't what Bree wanted me to do, but I really hated having to stand in front of the guy I accused my girlfriend (or Ex, as I know have to get use to saying) of cheating on me with. So thinking quickly, I had written done what she had coached me to say and just planned to have the note do everything.

Before Callan could ask pressuring questions, I dodged him altogether by quickly walking away with my head down.

"What the heck was that?" Bree exclaimed angrily, yanking on my arm in frustration. "You were supposed to talk to him you idiot!"

Oh please—she was acting a bit more dramatic about this than I was. And _I _was that one that was dumped in the first place. "Lay off Drama Queen; what's your problem anyway?"

"I thought we had already gone over this; your relationship goes down the toilet—my chances of being the Maid Of Honor go down with it. And I _need _to be the Maid Of Honor and rub it Rachel's face!"

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><p><strong>That was a horrible ending, but I really needed to get this done for you guys.<strong>

**Sorry for the late, late, late update, but between my family hectic behavior, the death of someone very close to me, and all the drama that came along with that—boy, I just can't find the time to stay focused anymore.**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think of the chapter so far.**

**P.S.: If you even read this A/N write the word "PicklePeas" in your review. Thanks! :)**


	27. Chapter 26

**Hey my people. I'm, like, freaking **_**bummed **_**that the next Lab Rats episode will be in OCTOBER! That's just too long a wait. It just better be worth it. How many of you feel the same way?**

**Are any Kickin' It fans here? Reading this story? Because if there isn't, you can skip ahead, but I'm majorly excited for Hit the Road Jack. It will be the best Kickin' It episode by far to me. And It hasn't even aired and I know it.**

**It'll be **_**that **_**good.**

* * *

><p>Rachel's Pov<p>

I was starting to get worried. Well, more worried, anyway. Christine didn't show up to school all week; Bree's freaking out because Christine wants nothing to do with her; whenever Chase is near, I just wanted to sock him in the face. And don't think I can't do it either.

Break-ups had always been _my thing_—but in the way you think. Sammie and Ashley had a thing for jocks, getting heartbroken after less than two months. (You'd think by now they knew not to go after the type that dumped them.)

I've only ever experienced a break-up once or twice, but both times were neutral—there was nothing to cry over.

"You're gonna have to come out of there some time!" I called into Christine's door, kicking it with the toe of my heel.

Christine snorted from behind it. "And when my bladder explodes, I will. But for now, buh-bye!"

I groaned in frustration. "Oh come on! I know you love him and all, but you can't blame him." Bree had told me this earlier at school, begging me to tell Christine this since she won't talk to her. I was curious as to what this meant (we all saw how Chase gave Callan a sock right to the jaw), but didn't pry. Prying just led to pissing people off for no reason and right now no one needed that.

Just as I was about to give up—turning around and heading home to watch my recorded shows and plot, just like yesterday—when I heard the front door slam. I furrowed my eyebrows; was Grant heading out or something?

"What are you doing here?" I heard the said man hiss in anger and awe. I gasped, eyes going wide. That was my first time ever hearing him _that _angry…including all the times he refused to budge his feelings for Davenport. Who could cause him to act in such a way?

By now Christine's door had creaked open and she was standing right beside me. The two of us huddled together at the top of the stairs.

"I came to see her," a woman's voice snipped, sounding tired and snappy. "I have as much a right to her as you do."

"Not when you walked out _thirteen years ago_!"

Christine gasped in shock, looking horrified as a hand rose to her mouth. She stumbled, her slippers nearly slipping from the carpeted floor. The rustle of movement replaced the voices. Being cautious, I crept down the stairs for a better peek, gripping the rail as I watched a lady came into view.

She was gorgeous, young and pretty and brunette; Shorter than Grant but taller than Chase. Something about her thin face and slope of a nose seemed so familiar…

Then it clicked.

"My dear god," I whispered in disbelief. The wave of surprise was so strong that it nearly knocked me off my spying step.

I held my breath, waiting to be discovered as I slowly crept closer. Christine had to be right behind me now—she was practically breathing down my neck. She had to be more shocked than I was.

Seeing her mother…seeing her for the first time in _forever_.

"How did you even find us?" Grant growled angrily. "I spent months securing our trail—moving place to place all the time."

The woman stepped closer, hand on hips. "She's my daughter, I deserve to see her."

"Last I knew, you didn't _want _to see her."

"Things change, Allan. Stop focusing on the past and let me in!"

"Why should when you spent all these years trying so hard 'living in the past' yourself?"

Silence. Christine was gripping my arm tightly, her sharp nails digging into my skin and making half-moons. I was too pitiful to care; some arm squeezing was nothing compared to how pained she looked right now.

I turned to her entirely, whispering, "Do you want to do go down?" low enough for only Christine to hear.

Christine's breath hitched (out of nervousness or pain, I couldn't tell) and nodded, almost reluctant. "Let's get this over with," she mumbled. "I'd have to face the music eventually."

Licking my lips, we carefully snuck down the stairs cautiously. Up close, this lady—it took a while for it so sink in I'd have to call her Christine's mom—looked more like Christine; and awfully familiar. Something about her ballet dancer body and dainty dramatic face struck a memory, like looking at the same article after months and months of not reading it.

"How can you blame me?" She's yelling now. "You turned my only daughter into a science experiment and kept it from her—kept it from me."

Grant pinched the bridge of his nose like he was losing his tolerance already. "She's fine with it now and getting plenty of the proper training she needs within each week. Many people close to her have the same situation and she is fine with it."

Fine with what? What was the 'top secret, causing-appeared-mom-to-act-crabby' experiment they keep mentioning? I looked to Christine for some answers, but all she did is tightened her robe belt and shot me a guilty look. _I'll explain later_.

The adults still hadn't noticed us yet, facing off like they'd done it way too many times before. I thought back to the brief snippets of conversations where Christine ever brought up her mom or parents' in general—they never saw eye to eye. Especially when it came to decisions about her.

With a supporting squeeze, I tossed her a small smile. Christine tried to smile back, but it came out a grimace. "Let's just get this over with," she grumbled, letting me lead her downstairs.

Christine's Pov

There she was. Standing right in front of me with that same look of fury and pain and irritation etched on her face that I saw her walk out the door with years ago.

When thinking about seeing my own mother again, I always imagined the meeting a bit more fairytale like. Just to kid myself of course. Mom and me would never be truly fixed, so happy and carefree and just _there—_nothing like her baking cookies and happily settled and peaceful with Dad and me.

It was hanging by a close thread, but such a great distance away; simply not meant to happen.

Unlike when I was little, I was okay with it now.

But something inside my snapped at the mere sight of the woman who made me. Something that made my chin trembled and lips quiver as my eyes started to get dotted with tears. Another thing broke too, making my hands ball into the tightest fist I could manage. My fingernails dug into my palms, my fists shaking and white.

Rachel's eyes are wide as she stood on the sidelines, only a few feet away from me behind the couch. For reasons I fathom, it was quite surprising she was still here. I've had fights with my dad before, several in different states, others on the road or the occasional airplane ride. Some were in front of temporary friends I found decent to hang out with, who chose to slip out of the house and ignore my existence for the of the time I'm in the state.

It was nice, having support in these situations where all the odds weren't on my side. I knew at least one person would stick by me through all this.

"Mom," I tried to say evenly. I cringed when I heard the crack at the end. "What are you doing here?"

She stiffened, turning in surprise. I shifted in my slippers as she looked me over critically from my brown monkey slippers to the crown of my head where a rat's nest sat stubbornly. "Christine," she said evenly, still eyeing me. "How nice to see you unchanged."

Rachel looked at me quizzically. _"Unchanged_?" she mouthed to me, looking curious and concerned.

"_I'll explain later_," I mouthed back, hoping she got it.

I turned back to my mother. She looked colder and stern than when I was younger. "Of course I've changed; you've missed a lot of milestones and I hope it was _so _worth it."

She paused, not expecting it. Good. I hope it threw her off guard. "I've been busy," she said carefully, working around her words. "And I would've tried to contact you..."

"That's a load of bull!" I cried out, throwing my hands up. "When I was ten, I sent you _five letters a week_ for a _month_, and never once did you respond to any of them." I crossed my arms in frustration. "You know, I always heard about that one family that was torn apart because of greed, but I never thought that it would happen to me—or because of _you_."

Mom stumbled back a bit in shock. "Why would you say such a thing? I've spent forever trying to get you away from the things he's done to you! And things like _that_!"

My jaw dropped as she pointed to Rem—_my _Rem; the same Rem who knew my favorite breakfast and always sang along with me whenever I watched Music Man; the same Rem who taught me how to ride a bike and made me brownies when I fell into a bush. The same Rem who stepped in when my mother left me.

"What are you talking about?!" I screeched, running over to Rem and standing next to her protectively. "Rem's my best friend—she treated me the way you never would've."

"Christine Annabel Grant, you know that is not true!" mother protested sternly, looking between me and Rem fiercely. It didn't feel right calling her Mom—she didn't deserve the title.

"Then why'd you leave?" I said sourly.

She point accusingly as Dad. "He turned you into a walking disaster! You're lucky I came years later instead of never."

"Maybe it should've been never," I said, speaking quietly now. But it's loud enough to throughout the room. "Everything had been okay for me until you decide to break me apart all over again." I suddenly burst out laughing, "And on today of all days. If anything, Dad _helped _me. He did something that you never did me—_at all_."

"And what would that be?" mother said coldly, "Ruining your life?"

I shook my head at how she still wasn't getting it. "He stuck by me," I said strongly. "Sure, he made us pack up and leave a lot, but he always knew what to do to keep me safe and comfortable. He raised me. He _loves _me." I stepped closer, daring this woman to challenge me. "And he didn't just pack up in leave."

Mother shook her head in disbelief. "Did _he_ do this too? Brainwash you into thinking that making you unnatural was okay? This is child abuse!" She shrieked in desperation. By now even she saw her defenses and protests were weak.

"What about all these years? Isn't that called neglect?" I said, daring her once again. "And just because he did extra things with me doesn't make it child abuse. I like it now. It's fun to step outside the box and be different for a change. It even brought me closer together with the one I love."

Rachel gasped, her hand rising to her mouth. I smiled as I realize she'd caught on to what I'd been hinting for her. Now she knew too.

"This isn't over," mother tried to fight weakly. "I can bring in the authorities."

Dad sucked in a breath. Even though being a part of science world as a project was new to me, I'd caught on when I was pretty young that Dad always feared his work would bring him trouble. But that's why Dad and I were so alike—we took major risks with huge consequences.

"Actually," Rachel began with her finger raised dramatically. She fixed her posture so look professional. "It kind of is. You see, as long as Christine agrees to the terms of said project-slash-experimentation brought upon her, there is no legal charges he can face. And as long as she has permission from guardian she's under the care for, it is legal for Mr. Grant to perform such things on a minor. And no, it does not count for child abuse—physical and/or verbal—when she is physically and mentally healthy." Rachel finished with a shrug, adding in a casual, "Now I suggest you stop talking because you have nothing to prove."

Mother looked around angrily, glaring at all of us. "What do you know?" she snapped at Rachel. "You're just a 'minor' yourself."

"Actually," I said with a smirk. "Both of her parents are involved with the law. Her mom's a lawyer and her father's chief of the Police Department. So she and her sister know quite a lot."

"What if I force you to come on the road with me?" mother snipped, "Watching your mother go around the country with fame and fortune and be a star, and taking notes for a decent life."

Rachel stepped in again, still in professional mode. "It would be worse," she claimed, "I think Christine would agree that as a star, you're hounded constantly for your work in the theatre arts and can't settle down like her and her father can. And living on the road would not provide to right kind of school education and social activity teenagers our age require for a healthy life into adulthood." Rachel shrugged again, adding, "Really, you should stop talking when nothing you say is making any sense."

Mother fumed, eyes going huge and dangerously full of brimming hatred. "Mark my words, _child_," she spat at me in distaste. "I'll be back; you'll be joining me whether you like it or not."

She spun dramatically on her heel and stormed out the door, it shutting loudly behind her. Seconds later we could hear her car start up, backing out of the driveway and zooming down the street.

I turned to Rachel. "That was pretty cool; did I mention I love you."

Rachel dismissed me with a grin. "Aw, shut up."

"How'd you know Maria was famous?" Dad asked, "Did you mention it to her."

"Mom's into recording that kind of stuff," Rachel claimed with a shrug. "She's always watching it when she's home alone. I just recognized her from it."

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

This had to qualify as trespassing somehow. "We really shouldn't be doing this," I hissed to Bree.

She just rolled her eyes and gave me a shove forward. "I didn't let you ride me all the here for nothing," she snipped irritably, rolling her eyes. "Now climb up that tree and kiss and make up already. I've gone crazy for having resort to no girl talk —_again_."

Rolling my eyes at her and how overly dramatic she was, I started up the tree, praying that a thick enough branch would be able to lead me to Christine's balcony. When I stopped, I panted and took a moment to take a breather. Groaning, I struggled to scoot forward, clutching the branch as I make it to the railing.

"Move faster you wimp!" Bree hissed up to me, hands on her hips. "I don't got all night!"

"Quit rushing me!" I said down to her in reply, trying to carefully step onto the railing.

It didn't end well.

Just as I thought I found my balance, my foot slipped and sent me crashing the wooded balcony floor. Moaning in pain, I tried to use my arm to prop myself up. As I was about to get to my knees, I heard the door fly open and gasp.

Christine stood there staring at me in shock. "What are you doing here?" she hissed. "We're supposed to be broken up. That means you can't decidedly drop in and try to sweep me off my feet." She crossed her arms and gave me a pointed look. "You have two minutes before I kick you over the edge."

"I'm really, really, really sorry for what you saw at school," I began. "I get jealous super easily and with Callan I just kind of snapped when I saw you too together. I apologized to him but he isn't the one I want to forgive me." Cautiously, I stepped closer as I saw her soften, but only in the slightest. "That wasn't me you saw that day. It was Spike. He was way worse than me and sometimes I can't control him. What will it take for you to forgive me?" I was standing right in front of her now, holding her hands in mine as I pleaded, "Please don't make me suffer any longer."

Christine sighed, looking into my eyes sadly. "How are we going to get through this, Chase?" she asked quietly. "Spike can't keep coming out and ruining everything for us every time a guy wants to hang out me. We can't keep chasing each other away."

"I know," I agreed quietly. "So what are we going to do?"

She sighed again, pulling away and running her hand through her messy hair. "Give me time to think this over," she answered thoughtfully, looking kind of distant as if thinking this over. "Let's meet at midnight—our special park place. I'll give you my answer then."

I guess that's better than her hating me for the rest of high school.

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><p><strong>What answer do you think Christine will give him? Should she take him back or reject him again?<strong>

**Review, it helps us update faster. :D**


	28. Chapter 27

**Thank all of you who reviewed for getting this story to 100 views with the last chapter. It means so much to us, so please keep reviewing and reading and all that. Love ya'll :)**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

Back when the dads hated each other, I found it pain to sneak out all the time; it was horrible for me to keep so many things from Dad when I spent my entire life learning to build a relationship off telling him all the girly and not-so-girly things in my life. So imagine the irony of me stealthily dropping from my balcony in shades and a hoodie at midnight.

Either way, I couldn't exact call this sneaking out either; I'm pretty sure Rem knew what I was up to—all this sneaking around taught her to watch for when I was doing so or not.

Once I've started down the street and to the park, it's surprising how windy the night was. The crazy warmness during the day and then the insane temperature drop was something I still needed to get used to. Autumn was here, colored leaves fallen on the sidewalk and people already putting out Halloween decorations when it's still a handful of weeks today. I paused, suddenly realizing something—this was the first time I'd be able to spend an actual Halloween in a steady going home. Not on the road like Dad and I and Rem have been doing since I was seven.

The thought of doing so (dressing up, especially) made a nice feeling spread in my stomach as I reached the entrance of the parked. Someone had switched the pink flowers out blue and indigo ones. It was so dark and they blended together so well that I could hardly make them out as I walked by them.

There he was. All paid shirt and jeans and high tops just like I saw him last night. I still felt my breath get caught in my throat, making me lick my lips as I stepped closer.

"Hey," I tried carefully mentally cheering myself on when I didn't hear a stutter.

Chase grinned at me, walking closer and into patches moonlight from in between the trees that made him glow unnatural silver. "Hey."

We stopped then, breathing the silence. I've never been of silences, always making things too emotional. But this was a good, comfortable silence that didn't seem to weigh everything down so much—not adding more tension than needed. I knew he was waiting for my answer. Honestly, so was I. I felt kind of bad for not putting more thought into this decision (depending on what I say, I could be breaking too many hearts for me to tolerate). But I couldn't reply now; I needed to wait and collect before blurting anything that might wreck many future outcomes.

Taking in a deep breath, I looked everywhere but at Chase's eyes, saying, "Do you really want to go through with this? Do you really want to be put at the risk of getting your heart broken all over again?" _'Because I'm sure I'm not ready for that_, I added silently, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

Chase smiled at me lovingly, eyes twinkling like they did the first time we met. "For you, I'll risk anything." His words aren't loud; not a scream or shout—barely just said. His eyes locked with mine, so focused and unwavering that I was the one who caved and looked away, watching as a slight breeze rustled the leaves. The sight itself made me shiver, not the fact that I wasn't even chilled.

"Would you be able to understand the fact I wouldn't be ready for such pain?" I asked, avoiding his eyes still.

"Of course," Chase replied, his voice sounding equivalent to a black void. But something—a pull at my gut, the quick protest of my heart—warned me, told me that the pain would be more significant if we're apart; Even if it did sound really cliché.

I shifted my weight, feeling anxious as I stuffed my hands into my pockets. "Fine," I caved, watching Chase smile. "But we have to promise to at least _try _and not mess things up. Promise?"

"Promise." Grinning, Chase pulled me closer and crashed his lips on mine, wrapping his arm around my waist.

I grinned into the kiss, deepening it and tangling my hands in his hair. Feeling his tongue slide across my lip, I immediately grant Chase's access, wrapping my legs around his waist feeling his tongue all over my mouth. This, by far, had to the farthest we've gone.

I pulled away, both of heavy breathing heavy. Chase looked at me, resting his forehead against mine. "I love you."

I smiled. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"That has to be the sweetest thing I've ever heard!" Rachel and Janelle squealed excitedly, looking at me from my computer screen.<p>

I rolled my eyes, but smiling. "That's all you guys say, even about the break-up."

And I wasn't lying—apparently Rachel found Chase/Spike fight for me "cute because he's showing his manliness for me".

Janelle wagged her finger at me playfully. "We don't speak of the no-no event here." Yeah, can you believe that's what they were calling it? Me neither.

"Are you ever going to _not _call it that?"

"Nope," they responded in unison, smiling at me like idiots. I just shook my head at the two.

Rachel grabbed a bottle and took a swig, it looking like juice or something. "So have you and Hunter…you know"—she gestured to me, as if not knowing how to put it.

I sighed. "If you mean have we hugged and made up yet, then no." I messed with my tank top. "This isn't something we can just instantly forget like girls can, you know. Plus he's a dude—he's going to try and bring it up anyway, even if I do drop it."

Janelle shrugged. "You have a point," she agreed. "Boys always need warnings like that spelled out for them. Such work, but we put up with them, anyhow."

"Oh, and Bree wants to talk to you," Rachel said suddenly, looking at me with a smirk. "She knows you and Chasey-poo have made up and wants to see you."

I cringed in guilt. I haven't even talked to her yet, and in all honesty, I forgot why I was even avoiding her in the first place. I wasn't feeling made toward her or anything, and she's stopped reminding me of Chase. I guess I just kind of let her slip my mind for a while. But it is rude to just leave her hanging like I did, especially without a good reason; not that I have one.

"I know," I sighed, "I'll do it tomorrow."

This was going to suck. I thought I've been around long enough to have a clue of what everyone's worst was. But Bree was one of those people who never let the right people see her bad side. So lord know how bad she'll be tomorrow.

Rachel saw my expression and waved me away with her hand. "Oh please," she snorted, like I amused her. "Bree's not capable of getting super pissed, so relax."

Janelle and I both gasped in surprise at Rachel. In all my time of knowing her, she's never cussed…around people, anyway.

"You watch it young lady!" Janelle scolded playfully. "There are young people here!"

"Hey!" I piped up, glaring at both of them. "I'm only fifteen! And aren't you fourteen?" I added to prove my point, watching Janelle shrug.

"I had to try."

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

There was something oddly entertaining about watching Bree scream at my girlfriend. And not in a bad way, but it was just so amusing to me, I didn't bother stepping in and asking why she was screaming in the first place.

"So, let me get this straight," Christine said slowly, looking at me oddly after I explained my thoughts to her. "You were just going to let your sister stand there and scream her head off at me just because you thought it was funny?" She raised her eyebrows. "That doesn't seem very boyfriend-like to me."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Then let me make it up to you." I stepped closer and kissed her, dragging out for as long as I could, not wanting to let go—

"_Oh mi gawd!" _Sammie shrieked, slamming her hands over her eyes. "Some of us actually want to _digest _our breakfast, you know. We don't need you two standing their swallowing each other."

Christine pulled away, smirking as she said, "Then don't look," before kissing me again.

"Sweet mother of god just break it up already," Rachel snapped at us. She pulled away forcefully and god her nails are like sharp tiny knives.

I groaned, soothing the spot on my arm as I looked at her. "Do you ever cut those things?"

"Don't talk to me," Rachel snapped bitterly, "I'm in a mood."

"Obviously," I deadpanned.

Christine whacked my shoulder. "Don't provoke her," she warned me. "You saw those things; she could claw both your eyes out and eat them in front of you."

"What crawled into your panties and died?" Janelle teased, poking Rachel in her side.

Rachel turned and growled at her. "I'm fed up with love!" she declared, hands going to knot in her hair.

I raised my eyebrows. "Adam is still not noticing you?" I asked with a smirk.

All three of them pun and gaped at me.

"How did you know about that?" Rachel spluttered before sticking an accusing finger in Christine's face. "Did you fess up to him, Blabber mouth?"

Christine laughed and pushed her finger away. "I didn't 'fess up' to anything—or anyone."

"Did you really think we wouldn't catch one eventually," I sniffed. "Just because Adam's dumb doesn't mean I caught it."

Rachel gaped at me. "He's not dumb; he's just…not all there yet."

"Sure," I snorted, giving her a pointed look, "_that's _what you want to call it."

Shoving past me, Rachel, Sammie, and Janelle walked off, talking in hushed tones and looking around at everything. Could they be any more obvious they were talking about something—or someone—in the room?

"Your friends are nuts," I told Christine.

She looked at me, snapping her gum she just must've started chewing. "Don't you think I know that? And they're your friends too."

"Not when they act like that."

Christine laughed and shook her head at me, getting up on her tiptoes as her lips brush against me cheek. I frowned, wishing there had been more contact.

"That's all?"

My girlfriend just smirked at me. "Poor boy," she mocked, smiling and waving as she left.

I sighed, watching her leave before heading to my own class. The good thing about today (the school's first delayed start day. Something new) was that I was able to have my favorite class first: Biology.

"This is so gross!" Ashley exclaimed with a cry of distaste, holding her goggles and gloves away from her like they had a terrible odor. They probably did from being used so many times and not washed nearly enough. "The frog juice stinks like sewer water."

I rolled my eyes at her, sitting at the desk across from hers. "It's demorphin," I corrected, "It's not like you have to drink it. All we're doing today is learning how to cut into the frog and what materials to use to do so; Chill, princess."

Ashley still pouted, staring at the things in front of her. She didn't put them on until I said, "If anything of that "frog juice" touches you, your dream of perfect skin for the rest of your life will be ruined."

The whole class passed in a familiar blur of words I already knew. Call me a suck-up, but I did a bit of research into frog dissection a week ago and loaded it into my chip just for the unit. So really, I knew more than the teacher did.

"What're you doing now?" Ashley asked, walking beside me as we went down the hall. Out of all the girls (excluding Rachel), Ashley had to be my second favorite. But it's not like I can tell her that without her trying to claw my face off.

"I have free period."

She frowned. "Lucky—I got History." Ashley sighed, waving as she walked off, calling over her shoulder, "Wish me luck!"

I waved after her even though she couldn't see me. I sighed, trying to decide where to go. I didn't have many choices: either library or the cafeteria. Figuring the cafeteria would be swamped, I headed to the library.

"Christine Grant, please come down to the office."

Frowning, I paused for a second. Why would Christine be called down to the office? So, deciding to be a good boyfriend (I think), I slowly crept toward to office to see—

"What are you doing here?"

Exactly, what _was _Hunter doing there?

Said celebrity looked at Christine pleadingly. "Please," he begged, hands clasping in front of him as he stared down at her. "Just three minutes."

"I'll give you two," Christine bargained flatly, leading him outside.

I frowned; what were they talking about?

And should I feel this nervous? Even if we just got back together?

* * *

><p>Hunter's Pov<p>

"You better hurry this up," Christine warned, looking bored. "I don't have all day, you know."

I sighed, trying to plead with her. "I'm really, really sorry about the other day," I apologized. "I just lost control of myself. And I'm even sorrier for what happened that…other time."

Christine pinched the bridge of her nose, laughing without humor. "You never know when to stop do you?" She continued to laugh, shaking her head at me as she stared at the ground, not looking at me. "That incident was in the past Hunter—let it stay there." Christine finally met my eyes, adding softly, "I suggest you go before everything I _just _fixed is torn down again. And I'd hate for it to be because of you."

I sighed sadly, Christine pointing to the parking lot where my limo waited.

Could I not screw things up?

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

"What was that about?" I couldn't help but let the question pop out as soon as Christine was inside again, heading towards me.

She froze, pausing mid-step. Then she continued walking, like she hadn't stopped in the first place. But I could tell, her pause a beat too long.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Christine played off easily, looking at me, blinking several times.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "So you hadn't been outside arguing with Hunter, your famous celebrity friend?" It took a lot of willpower to not let the Ex-boyfriend slip out like I wanted it to.

Christine sighed, staring at me as she crossed her arms. "Why are you lurking in on my conversations anyway?" she asked suspiciously.

I shrugged, tapping the side of my head. "It's not like I can exactly help it, bionic hearing and all."

"Fair point," She nodded, rocking back and forth on her heels and rolling her lips into her mouth. "So how about instead of dwelling this any further, how about we plan a matchmaking thing for Rachel and Adam." Christine tapped her chin and looked into space for a second or two. "It's so odd seeing her so snippy and…non-Rachel-ish."

I laughed at her grammar and how oddly right she was.

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><p><strong>I'm so sorry for the shortness, but I figured how many things we left you hanging at would make up for it.<strong>

**Review if you think you solved everything or even if you didn't. Review either way :D**


	29. Chapter 28

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews. And if you are a fan of reading more than just this story from me, I have some writing news.**

**Three new one-shots: Mr. Young, Kickin' It, and Pair of Kings. I'm debating whether or not to focus on another Bree/Chase story.**

**And also, the deadline for FL is by the week of Halloween. And the official date of Long Live (sequel) is by the middle of November (second or third week, depending on when I finish FL). Just thought you should know.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

I loved Rachel to death, but she was absolutely _horrible _at making the first move. Or, at least that's what I've heard from Sammie and Ashley. Even Trina thought so. So naturally, it was only my duty as her best friend to help her with her "situation" with Adam.

"Are you one hundred percent positive that she like-likes Adam, though?" Bree asked, staring at me with raised eyebrows and crossed arms. Clearly, she didn't find it possible for Adam to be appealing once girls got past his looks.

Wasn't that just grand?

I nodded. "Positive. Have you seen the goo-goo eyes she's been giving him lately?"

"Sure, and I also saw a couple flocks of pigs fly by."

"Can you try and not be so negative about this?"

"Maybe if it was another guy; I mean, I already have one best friend dating one of my brothers. I don't need two!"

I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head at her. "You really need to let that go."

Bree mimicked me mockingly. "Not even on your wedding day, babe."

Ignoring her, I focused on my blank sheet of notebook paper in front of me instead of my pretzel. "Can you just help me? Pretty please?" I added pleadingly, looking at her with a begging expression. Fun Fact: Dad always said I was good at those (unfortunately, he would add.)

Bree sighed, and I mentally cheered as she caved. "Fine, but don't expect me to be so honky dory about double the make-out sessions I'll be surrounded by."

"Who says honky dory?"

"You just did."

I squint at her saying, "Touché, my friend, touché indeed."

After I finished this business with Rachel and Adam, I had _got _to get Bree a man.

* * *

><p>I stood in front of Adam at the Davenports' house, clipboard in my hands as I stared him down sternly. This afternoon would be all business. And since everything with Adam is always a bit…<em>slow<em>, this was going to be a _long _afternoon.

"So remember, her favorite places to shop are anywhere that have heels, colorful dresses, and sell Twilight and Hunger Games merchandise," I concluded, giving Adam a look, "any questions?"

"Why does she like cows?" Adam asked curiously.

I groaned, my hands itching to go up to the top of my head and pull out my hair. "How and when did you get cows out of a single thing I just said?" I asked impatiently. "That's why I'd like to know."

Adam shrugged, saying, "This whole extra school work would be a lot more fun if it included cows." He shot up in his seat, eyes suddenly looking bright, "oh, or maybe a pig!"

I sighed. This was getting nowhere. I would have to question Rachel on her outlook on Adam. Despite his looks and undeniable pull of attraction, what was there once you looked past all that, a childish, farm animal loving lug nut?

"No offense, but why are you still here?" Chase asked, coming into the room with what looked like sneakers.

I furrowed my eyebrows, but shrugged and looked down at my clipboard. "Yeah, like that's every girlfriend's favorite response," I replied sarcastically, my heart only half in the teasing. I never realized how tiring it would be to tutor somebody on dating—especially when that somebody was Adam.

Chase laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist. I leaned into him, sighing. "This is hopeless," I whispered to him. Adam started playing with a throw pillow by punching it. "It's like teaching walls mathematics."

"Rachel could get better if she tried," Chase agreed, watching Adam with me, "if not better looking, at least someone with a higher GPA."

"Would he even know what GPA is?"

He shook his head, "Probably not."

As petty as it was to pick on Adam—with him sitting only a mere feet away—it helped calmed my nerves.

Along with the weight of getting two of my closest friends together (excluding the stress with finding about close friend a flirtationship with someone), Dad was counting on me to help with some stuff he couldn't do. Maria thought the perfect way to ruin my life would be to challenge Dad in court.

Like I said, wasn't that just grand?

Speaking of time…

"Oh crap!" I peeled myself away from Chase, scrambling to yank my phone out of my pocket. "What time is it?" I didn't want an answer.

"Shouldn't you know?" Adam asked clueless. "You have a phone?" Thanks for the obvious, Adam.

I cursed under my breath, running my hand through my hair and putting my phone away again. "I gotta go. I promised my dad I'd get some things done half an hour ago!" Quickly kissing Chase on the cheek and waving hurriedly to Adam, I rushed out the door.

The sky had gotten darker than it had been after school. Gray clouds rolling with only brief white patchy clouds left. Rain seemed to be setting in, the dark puffs near exploding. _Just great walking weather_ is my only thought on all this; I had no time to complain or I'd be later than I was.

"Crap, crap, triple crap," I muttered angrily, marching down aisle after aisle and grabbing the things I needed from the shelves and into my basket. You can only imagine how many angry moms were staring me down in the line as I continued chewing myself out for getting off schedule. Rem might kill me—Dad would show no mercy if he didn't, and the whole 'Maria' chizz was making everything worse.

One would think seeing my mom would've been the happiest moment of my life. When I was ten or eleven, that's what I thought too: daydreaming of grocery shopping and teasing Dad behind his back (maybe even to his face sometimes).

By the time I got home, the wind had gotten heavy enough to freeze my bones to the point of numbness, only thawed by my bitterness at this week. Sure, I got my boyfriend back and one of my best friends was my best friend again. And hey, I found a penny on the sidewalk yesterday—nothing ever stayed good for too long. Trust me.

"Would you just chill?" Rachel snorted from the other line. I glared at the phone. My fingers shaking, I ran them through my hair—frizzy and knotted, thanks Mother Nature—and started putting things into their respectful places. "Mom's got this."

I sighed, knowing she was right. But after spending (most of) my entire life "chilling" on a lot of things, I wasn't good with these situations. My family never had to deal with them and freaking out seemed fine to me.

"Whatever," I mumbled, "I just want this over with." _And crawl into my bed, planning how to set you up with the love of your life_, I added on silently, itching for my notebook to think of some more missions that could possibly work. Since Rachel was my go-to gal for everything I did, I only had five (six if you count how desperate I was to half-include Leo on this) people to help. This was all new match-made-in-heaven territory for me.

_And to think I'll have to go through all of this with Bree and her to-be-hubby_. I mentally groaned at the thought, slamming my head onto the counter. With all my buzzing thoughts, I hardly even notice the dull pain throbbing a second after. I don't bother to lift my head.

"I see someone's in a mood," a voice teased lightly as they whirred closer.

I sighed and didn't look up at Rem to know she was there. I probably should've since I knew that Rem hated conversing with people and having them look anywhere but at her. "I'm just tired, that's all. This is all new to me." And to her, too, but I bet she knew that as well as I did.

"I understand that," Rem hummed in agreement, "your father isn't doing much better, if that helps."

It really didn't but I didn't tell her that because Rem knew that. Rem knew a lot of things. If I was doing so terrible, I could only imagine how horrible my Dad was doing.

In a way, I couldn't even do that either. Dad hadn't come out of his office—lab, whichever—at least when I was around.

Times like these it sucked when looking like my mother. Dad closed off and never let me in, all because of what she did to him—what she's doing to us.

Dinner I fend for myself as El would say whenever she had to cook herself instead of someone else doing it. Chef's creation: Easy mac and a cut up hot dog—yum.

I ate in my room and left my bowl on my bedside table, not able to focus on my homework. Not able to look at the three sheets of French verbs and History notes unless I was fascinated in exploding. I considered the idea; exploding meant not being here and dealing with all this. But leaving this mess would me leaving Dad behind to pick up the pieces and even the cruelest person on this Earth wouldn't think of doing that to a man that stressed.

Unless that cruelest person in the world was Maria.

When I was little, my Dad used to tell me a bunch of stories about opera witches sucking the life out of the weak and used. "Once she'd squeeze all the life out of them, there was nothing left to take," he'd say every time he ended a different witch story. Back then I had no idea what he had been referring to (even with I was little I knew his little tales had truth to them), but it became clearer once I figured out my mother abandoned us—her family, her only daughter (to my knowledge)—for what, fame and a name? Couldn't she have both? Or was she really selfish enough to think that being rich was better than a happy family she threw away the chance of having?

Only one answer came to mind: _Unbelievable._

I'm just about to drag my body to my dresser and throw on some clothes when my phone bleated at my desk. Groaning, I trudged over and grimaced at the ID.

I didn't want to speak with him. Not now, not ever. I knew I couldn't avoid the subject forever (celebrities always found a way to get what they want—always), but right now was not the time to be bringing it up.

I couldn't deal with Hunter right now.

Sighing, I press ignore and flop back onto the bed.

Was being a teenager with only one parent supposed to be this depressing?

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><p><strong>Okay, so this is like half the amount of a chapter I would usually write, but if I want to make it to 31 chapters, they're going to be shorter than usual.<strong>

**Review and tell me if you know what the story ending will be. Or if you don't, review anyway. :D**


	30. Chapter 29

**Second to last chapter! Who else is excited?**

**I'm also excited for many other reasons. Like for one, I just downloaded two new Taylor Swift singles. That can make anyone happy, but day in general has been a good day.**

**You know that feeling you get when you're letting something go, but you still have plenty of ideas for it? That's how I feel about FL (ending next week). But I think we'll find a way to jam all my idea for it into the sequel somehow.**

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><p>Christine's Pov<p>

The first thing that popped into my head was, "dude, what happened to your clothes?"

Bree shrugged, reaching up to tighten her ponytail. "Tasha's behind on laundry. I'm wearing Adam's shirt, Chase's pants"—she leaned closer, raising her eyebrows—"and you don't even want to know whose underwear I have on."

"Lemme guess, Leo's?"

She looked at me. "How did you know?"

I pointed at her waistband. "I saw the Spiderman logo on the waistband."

Bree shrugged again. "It was that kind of day, you know?"

"Not really."

"Rhetorical question, dude."

I sighed, checking my phone. "It's ten to; I gotta go."

Bree and I said our good-byes and I logged off of Skype, dragging my body to my closet. What do you wear when you go to court and your enemy is your mother? Or just to court in general? I was just going to be in the benches supporting Dad, maybe speaking as a witness. Rachel would be there too, her mom volunteering as Dad's lawyer—free of charge.

Groaning in frustration, I grabbed my white V-neck, gray blazer, and navy blue skinny jeans with my old ballet flats I haven't pulled out in forever. It was a miracle they still fit because I don't think my favorite combat boots would make much of a professional impression on the judge and jury.

My stomach, growling, I hurried downstairs and shined an apple on my sleeve before taking a huge bite. I winced—too mushy for my liking, but I finished it anyway. Throwing the core away and gulping down a large glass of apple juice anxiously, I sat on the couch, foot tapping impatiently the entire time. I've never been much of a waiter, especially with something so serious like this.

Dad was taking too long. I heard him fumbling with different stuff in his office. He messed with things when he was nervous like I became an organized freak when suffering from too much anxiety—he's where I get it from.

Rem wasn't in sight, which was weird. I think it might've been that week in the year where Dad shut her off, setting her with fresh batteries and wiring. I knew it was helping Rem and making her more fit for helping out and being there, but I really needed her right now; the whole "battery set-up" could've waited a day later.

I checked my phone again. 2:45. We're going to be late. Dad was tinkering with whatever, knowing just as well as I did that he was delaying seeing her again. I couldn't blame him; I was hoping to avoid her at all costs too.

But If I had to face her too, so did he.

* * *

><p>I was happy that Rachel had decided for the whole blazer look too. I didn't feel so out of place and small. Dad seemed especially fidgety, messing with his tie and playing with the cuffs on his suit constantly. But I had to admit, he cleaned up nice.<p>

_The first cut is the deepest._

Lately, that song played on replay in my head. In a way, it always made me think about my parents. The first cut when she ditched us for fame. Dad never tried to love again. But I couldn't say that his luck was cursed, because despite moving around place to place, we had a system going. And we were happy.

This whole court thing was a bit pathetic on Maria's part; just another cut she wanted inflect on Dad's life because it was okay again. But several cuts would never be as deep as the first one.

Rachel slid into place beside me and gave me hand a squeeze. "How you holding up?" she whispered, the judge proceeding to talk.

Maria was a pitiful sight to see—all fake tears and pre-written sob stories on how "he jerked me out of her life" when I doubted the people even knew how big a lair she was. That's another thing: it sucks how celebrities can switch in and out of acting mode while leaving their lame opponents in the dust.

Everything sounded so fuzzy and unreal as I stared ahead. I never let go of Rachel's hand. I feared that if I did, I would unravel at a dangerously fast pace. Her mother continued to talk, defending to the end. As much as I appreciated their efforts, we were admittedly losing fast.

It's hard to say you're fearless without it sounding like bragging unless someone agrees with you. I should know because I tried to many times on several occasions to prove so without anyone's support on the subject. But at that moment, walking up to state my sayings as a witness, I was terrified and didn't even try to hide it.

I needed Chase. I wanted him to kiss me, hold me, distract from all the bad things happening around me, exploding like it was a hurricane and I was placed in the eye of the storm, watching all my surroundings be wrecked on their peaceful state. But he wasn't here despite my endless begging efforts with Davenport to let him skip training just this once. It was miracle that he even let me come. A huge part of me was dreading that he did; the smaller annoying-but-right part of me knew it was time to put on a brave face.

I really hated that part of me right now.

Rachel gave me a smile and thumbs up from her seat, meeting my eyes and sensing my panic. Dad looked no better than I did as he messed with his tie and suit. Maria looked at us in triumph; our nervousness is defeat in her eyes. It sickened me to think I ever came from someone as cruel as her.

Playing victim; claiming to do what was "best" for her "daughter"; sickened me like nothing before. Something surged through my veins-my advanced anger was picking up and I didn't want to stop it. So I didn't. Maria had no idea what I could do-I wasn't about to warn her either.

I'm gone. Or at least that's what I remember happening. Along with learning about my increased emotions toward certain things I already had slightly more sensitive feelings in many situations. I started saying a lot of stuff too calmly, staring straight ahead with my jaw set and anger coursing fiercely through me.

I didn't show it. I sat there, all clenched jaw, white fists in my lap, and daggers sent right at Maria. I still thought of the opera witches with their smug icy looks and sour, heartless attitudes. Keeping my thoughts focused on that—anger coming from my imagination of flying green witches screeching as they flew around the opera theatre. They used to give me nightmares; it's sad I just now realized that the main character was a real life nightmare.

"You were amazing!" Rachel cheered outside the court house. She was smiling—I guess that meant we won. I'm not ashamed to admit I kind of buzzed out the rest of what happened after I was dismissed from the witness stand. Everything went by in a dreamlike state.

I smiled slightly. "Thanks, it was nothing."

She frowned, stepping closer and smacking her hand against my forehead. "You okay, solider? Shouldn't you be a _bit more excited _about this? I mean, you defeated your worst enemy—a lot of people would kill for that feeling." Rachel winked, bumping our hips together when she added, "literally."

"Haha," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Very funny." Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and yawned. "Did I look zoned out to you up there?"

Rachel nodded like she had been thinking about it all along but didn't know how to flat out question me about it without sounding blunt. "Yeah; why were you zoned out again?"

I shrugged, kicking at an ant hill. "You guess is as good as mine." That was a lie—the truth at the same time. I knew why I was so mad, but I didn't know _why_. I could've spent all these years being as mad, angered, and frustrated as I wanted to but didn't. But today, I did. So really, Rachel's guess _was _as good as mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked as Rachel took out her phone and started typing away, smiling as she did so.

"Well," she began, snapping her phone shut, "we can't just stay her bored while the adults mingle; we're going to celebrate!"

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><p><strong>This is so short I don't even know what to say. The epilogue (next chapter) will be even shorter. But please review and tell me what you thought about Maria and the whole court fiasco and everything.<strong>

**P.S. Can anyone tell me where I got the idea of Bree wearing the boys' clothes from? You'll get a shout out if you guess right.**


	31. Epilogue

**Final chapter! Who else is excited for the sequel? I am beating my deadline, which has never happened for me before, so I'm also really excited about that.**

**Story news: after this story is completed, I will be completing three of my other stories before starting three new ones in their place. Along with those, I am brimming with one-shot ideas that I'm dying to publish! Keep looking out for those updates.**

* * *

><p>Chase's Pov<p>

To this day, I've yet to figure out how Rachel managed to pull a party off so fast. Within ten minutes, my house was holding all of our friends, a snack table, and a stereo setup in celebration of team Grant winning in court.

Christine, I could tell, was relieved that it was over. She looked so tired and worn out, I took her away from the noise and to the roof. Even though we didn't need to sneak around any longer, the roof was still a good place to escape everything.

"Do I look as crappy as I feel?" she asked, leaning against me.

"Do you want a boyfriend answer or a truthful answer?"

"I'm feeling honest—I'm going to go with truthful."

"…Then yes."

Christine rolled her eyes, snuggling in closer to me. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey!" I defended mockingly, "you're the one who said you wanted a truthful answer."

"Sometimes to the truth sucks."

"Amen to that."

Christine closed her eyes and I followed the suit, leaning back and running my hands through her hair. "Do you think it's all over?" Her voice sounded small, seeking a real answer this time.

"I don't know," I answered, really not knowing something for once. It wasn't a desired feeling; it made me squirm uncomfortably as I blinked my eyes open. "For now it is, but maybe…" I trailed off, not being up to finish.

She opened her eyes and shifted to look up at me. "Maybe it's just the calm before the storm?"

I let out a breath, agreeing, "Yeah, maybe that's it."

Christine turned to the sky, looking at the purple and rich pink ribbons of color in the distance. "I don't want to think about the bad stuff right now."

"What do you want to think about?"

"The good stuff." Christine wiggled up to face me, connecting our lips together.

I smiled against her lips and hugged her closer by her waist, nibbling on her bottom lip.

I didn't want to think about the bad thing either.

Just as I was about to ask for entrance, the roof door banged open. We both jumped apart, instinctively fixing our clothes and sitting up, panting.

"I finally score alone time with a girl," Leo cried out, gesturing to an awkward Janelle standing there next to him. "And we can't even make-out in peace?" He groaned and crossed his arms. "Being the last one to have a girlfriend in so unfair."

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><p><strong>I thought it should end with some Leo humor. Please review for how you think this story and progressed and how excited you are for the next installment of the series. Thanks for reading; until next time, bye!<strong>


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